The Mistake of Benevolence
by Cardio Necrosis
Summary: Danielle Kensith, an obnoxious Slytherin with red hair and green eyes, wonders why her head of house seems to hate her. And why does he always stare at her like like? A story about growing up, first love, and all the things in between.
1. Chapter 1 through 3

The Mistake in Benevolence

Chapter One: Potions

Out of everything in this world that I did not understand, one of them was why he always stared at me like that. Ever since the first time I stepped foot into the school, or to be more precise, the first time I saw him, he stared at me in that way--that special way--he reserved only for me. At first I couldn't quite place what it was, exactly, but after seeing it for so many years, I think I had figured it out. At first I thought it had been an assortment of feelings, because that's what it looked like to me when I first tried deciphering it. I thought that it was a mixture of uneasiness, of fear, and perhaps maybe anxiousness, and admiration, as well. Almost as though staring into my eyes gave him the feeling of finally admitting to a girl he was in love with her and he was unsure of her feelings. That little scenario I had cooked up in my brain easily covered all of those feelings I thought I saw in those black, tunnel-like eyes. Of course, now that I was a fourth year and had to deal with that look every day that I had seen him, I understood fully what it was.

It was hatred, pure and simple.

I have no idea why he hates me so much, but I know that he does. For awhile I forgot that I saw that very look in his eyes when he first saw me walking up to the Sorting Hat, when I saw his eyes slide over the crowd and they focused entirely on mine, and his body froze, and for a second I thought he had recognized me from somewhere, but then his lip curled into a sneer and he hastily looked away, hatred etched onto every inch of his repulsive face. I had forgotten that moment for awhile and tried telling myself he hated me because of something I did, something I needed to fix, and that if I somehow mended it then he would stop. But then I remembered that moment and realized he always had hated me from the moment he laid eyes on me and he always would.

Hell, I didn't even have the cover of Gryffindor to blame it on. I was a Slytherin. I was a Slytherin and my own Head of House couldn't bear to the sight of me. It wasn't enough that the other houses had to hate the fact I was in Slytherin--because they did, they despised this house--but my own Head of House did too. I wasn't a very popular person after a few short weeks, since the other houses wouldn't look at anyone known to be a Slytherin, and it didn't take long for the students in my house to figure out that Professor Snape wasn't fond of me.

He had pretty much made it apparent in the first Potions lesson, which was extra humiliating since I shared that class with the Gryffindors, who undoubtedly had heard Slytherin's wonderful reputation. I was listening raptly, paying close attention to what he was saying, although I will admit I wasn't writing notes. I never wrote notes unless a teacher asked me to, since I could remember most of it. He had never asked anyone to write anything down, and he was just talking about what he could teach us. Part of it may have been my fault, or at least that was what I had assumed after that, considering I had forgotten how he had given me that look of seething hatred before the Hat had even descended upon my head. I wanted it to be my fault because if I had made a mistake, I could mend it. But after much consideration, I realized that I had no fault whatsoever and he was just a git.

I remember feeling so enchanted by the way he spoke and moved. I could tell that he loved the subject he taught. He held a deep respect for it, almost like it was an actual person, someone he respected and knew, or like it was something he had created all by himself, like he was showing off his masterpiece painting. He was in charge, in complete control, of the situation, and it mesmerized me entirely. Being as I had always been bullied in primary school (I was a half-blood, and my father stated in his will that I should learn the muggle ways, which my mother hated to oblige to) I had always wanted to be intimidating like that, and to have people stare up at me and be mesmerized, and to not be the one in a circle being humiliated.

Of course, my being mesmerized by him didn't last long. He had noticed I was staring at him with rapt attention, and I'll admit, a small bit of adoration--it was the way he spoke that I think made me feel so attracted that first day--and when his eyes hit mine, they seemed to freeze. _He_ seemed to freeze. There was a shocked, frightened, and wistful expression on his face--the reason I know this, was because I had replayed the expression in my head a million times over, hoping that I could somehow think of something to explain his abhorrence of me--that made me feel excited at first, like perhaps he could tell I was important or special, and because so many teachers had looked me over and not paid attention to me growing up, even though I was usually the brightest, but that excitement dwindled as did the wistfulness on his face. I realized quickly the attention I wanted was not what he was going to give.

"Am I to assume that there are more important matters for you to be thinking about, Miss Kensith?" he asked, voice like ice, eye boring into mine sharply.

"Beg pardon?" I asked after a second, realizing that he was speaking to me, and that his tone was not that caress it had been earlier. It was smooth, just like before, but this had an icy stab to it. I would grow accustomed to that tone in the future, although at the time, I was unnerved by it.

"As you can see, the rest of your classmates are taking notes. Obviously you have deemed yourself above them, seeing as you were clearly not writing anything down and gazing ahead of yourself with a somewhat dreamy expression. I doubt that your expression could be invoked merely by me speaking, and so I naturally assumed that your mind was elsewhere, somewhere more important. Care to divulge?" He was mocking me. I could hear it in his voice, but there was also something defensive in his tone, almost like I had somehow offended him.

I blinked several times, taken aback by his behaviour. Although I had been teased by several pupils, I had never had a teacher act like this towards me. Most felt bad for me, to be honest, because I was bullied. "I was paying attention, sir," I promised. I was telling the truth.

He was still staring at my eyes, boring into them. I have no idea why he stared into them so much if every time it seemed to infuriate him. "So am I to gather that you were staring at me with that dreamy expression? Is it possible you were somehow mesmerized, infatuated? You were looking at me that way while I was speaking? You weren't daydreaming about something else? You were, in fact, gazing adoringly at me?"

I remember how quickly my throat seemed to constrict and how my cheeks burned a bright red. To this day, I have no idea if he somehow knew that was actually what I was doing, or if he was simply trying to get me to admit I wasn't paying attention. "I . . . Professor Snape, sir, I was . . ."

"The answer shouldn't be too difficult, Miss Kensith, either you were fantasizing about me, mesmerized by me, staring adoringly at you professor, or you were not paying attention at all and you were assuming that taking notes was above you. Which was it?"

Of course I hadn't been fantasizing about him. I was eleven, and he wasn't much to look at. I was, however, mesmerized by him, and by admitting that, everyone would also assume I was fantasizing, and assume I had a crush on him, which was entirely false. So, I lied. "I wasn't paying attention. I'm sorry," I murmured, expecting that to be the end of the situation once and for all.

Well, I was wrong. It was my first Potions class in my fourth year, and all I could think about was the way he had treated me in every other class I'd ever had with him. Every time I was cutting up my roots perfectly, or stirring, or measuring powders or liquids, I could feel him glaring at me, and more often than not, we managed to get into arguments either in class or detention. I knew that this year would be no different.

I was busy stirring my concoction, staring at my small piece of parchment beside my cauldron. I had bewitched my quill to mark a line on the cauldron so that every time my ladle passed that line, my quill would put a tally mark on the piece of parchment that my quill was poised on. Sometimes, especially when we had to stir our potion a large number of times, I would lose track by counting in my head or under my breath, and I wanted to prevent that from happening. It was a simple charm, really, and since I sat in the back (mainly because no one would sit with me, and also because I realized that Snape glared at me much more when I was nearer to him, I had learned to sit in the back before the middle of the first year) nobody noticed it. Not that I cared if they did.

I got great grades. I wasn't the most intelligent person to walk the halls of Hogwarts, far from it, but I was intelligent. Most things came easy to me, and so I didn't bother studying or taking notes, and I always managed to get passing grades. Nothing exemplary, except on reports and tests, but most of my assignments were average. I know I should apply myself more, but I didn't. Why would I if I could get passing grades without trying? So what if I could get full marks if I applied myself more? I did my assignments (sometimes) and did well on tests and reports. However, Potions was one of the things I excelled at astonishingly. I didn't study at all, because I never did, and whilst that hindered my performance in other classes, for some reason, in Potions, it didn't hinder me at all. I just followed the instructions and remembered why certain ingredients did certain things.

Even in Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts, which were my next best classes, I didn't do as well as I did here. Those spells were all for practical use, it was like learning how to tie shoes, and so it became a second nature, so that was understandable. Potions were simple because most of it was remembering ingredients and following instructions and knowing what happens what certain roots do when stirred into certain powders. Of course, I guess, one could say that Transfiguration was just the same as Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts, but that class was actually difficult for me and I only got passing grades barely. I suppose I could study, but that wasn't exactly fun. Divination was simple to pass, only because I lied my ass off through the whole thing, which almost everybody did who passed because even if they did see something relevant, unless it had a bad omen, Trelawney really had no idea how to teach at all. Care of Magical Creatures was nice, only because I liked being outside of the stuffy castle every now and then, but Professor Hagrid wasn't exactly the greatest when it came to teaching and I was pretty sure he didn't like me because I was a Slytherin. So Potions could easily be my favourite class, if not for the overgrown bat of a git who taught it.

After I stirred the potions counter-clockwise thirty times, because I had noticed the thirtieth tally mark, I quickly scribbled 'clockwise' on the parchment and started stirring it in the other direction, watching as my quill made a mark every time my ladle passed the little mark on my cauldron. This needed to be stirred thirty times as well, at a slow pace, and so I waved my wand and made the ladle start stirring by itself quite lazily, then I read the instructions on the board so I could get that ready.

I needed to cut up my roots, which I had already done, and so I looked at the next instruction, which was to let it boil. Then I would be finished and I could put some in the vial and be done. I felt as though something was wrong and so I kept looking up at the board, which was behind Snape's desk, but I couldn't figure out what I was missing or why I thought something was amiss.

Then I realized that Snape wasn't in his desk, nor was he anywhere within my sight. I furrowed my brows in confusion. It wasn't like Snape to just leave class, was it? I stared at his empty desk, frowning, checking down at the tally marks for a second to make sure I wasn't nearing the thirtieth tally, then back up at his empty desk. "Where did he go?" I whispered quietly.

"Ah, Miss Kensith," said Snape behind me, voice cool. I turned in my seat to look at him in surprise--I hadn't heard him moving behind me. Then again, I hadn't seen him at his desk in awhile. Had he been behind me for longer than a few moments? When his eyes flicked to mine I saw that flash of emotion I had finally realized was hate, not uneasiness, or admiration, or fear, or some mixture of all those emotions, but hate. "It appears my absence does not go unnoticed by you for too long."

"How long were you behind me?" I asked, eyes moving between the quill marking tallies and my ladle.

"I see that either you have failed to learn how to count like most people with something they refer to as a brain, or you find that manual labour is so beneath you that you cannot even stir a ladle. I believe you remember me stating, in my very first class, that there would be no foolish wand waving?"

For a second I wondered whether I should point out the fact he ignored my question, but I decided not to. "Oh, I wasn't paying attention that day, remember?" I scowled, turning to glare at him.

He raised a dark eyebrow, black eyes roaming over my face before settling onto my eyes once more. "You and I both know you were paying very close attention that day. Rapt attention. Which, I suggest, you start doing to your ladle. It is on twenty-two and I would hate for you to miss the thirtieth stir."

"You knew I was really paying attention?" I asked, hot anger burning my insides.

His eyes searched my face, from my red hair and across my fair face until they found my green eyes. No one looked at me like Snape did--with intensity. I always wished someone would look at me as Snape did, only without the hatred or whatever emotion it was he glared at me with. When his eyes stared into mine, the emotion in his black eyes welling up, I hated him as much as he hated me. "Of course I knew Miss Kensith." With that, he turned and went back behind his desk, occasionally glancing up and watching random students.

I removed the ladle when it stirred its final time, then I added my cut up roots. I just let it boil after that, glaring at Snape. He knew I had been paying attention that first day and still he had sought out to make fun of me. He continued to make fun of me my first, second, and third years too, and judging by his demeanour towards me thus far, my fourth year would not be any different. So then why? I was a Slytherin, and he was my Head, so why did he treat me like I was something disgusting?

When I was finished with my potion, I bottled it and put the stopper in my vial. I labelled it with my name and the date. As I strode up to his desk, he was watching me carefully, with a small half-smile. I hated him. I hated how he stared at me like that. I hated how he knew I paid attention that first day and he called attention to me, knowing that if I admitted the truth, then it would appear as though I had a crush on him. Why would he do that? And why did he always find ways to irritate me and why did he always stare at me? Was it because of my mother? I knew they didn't like each other, but this was ridiculous.

I tossed my red hair behind my shoulder so that it wasn't swinging in front of my eyes, and he looked as though he had been hit upside the head, because of the dazed look in his eyes. I put the vial down and pursed my lips at him while he blinked and recovered from whatever had dazed him.

"You know, Professor, I don't see why you humiliated me in my first class if you knew I was paying attention. Do you honestly get off on making fun of people?" I asked quietly so that none of the other students would hear.

"You were not writing notes as you should have been," he murmured as he picked up my vial and began examining it. I knew I should walk off, but I didn't.

I put my hands down on his desk and moved my head closer to his. His eyes slid away from the vial and found mine. His face was expressionless and his body froze. When his black eyes swept over my hair, which was hanging down in front of me and flopping onto his desk, I realized how low I was leaning, and that our noses were less than a foot apart.

"You think I don't notice how you look at me, but I do." He was still clutching my vial, but his grip tightened slightly--I could tell by the muscles in his hand--and his eyes narrowed. "You have, ever since you first saw me, ever since my Sorting. This has nothing to do with me not writing my notes, does it? There's something else."

"Go back to your seat," he ordered casually.

"Not until you tell me why you did that if you knew I was paying attention. It has nothing to do with notes. Don't tell me that rubbish."

"Sit," he ordered as though I were some dog.

"And what makes you think I'm going to do what you say?" I snapped angrily, my voice raising. No one else had finished their potion and so I hoped they were paying attention to brewing rather than me at the moment.

"Because I am your professor as well as your Head of House and if you do not, I daresay there will be a detention in your near future."

I glared at him. He was deliberately not answering my question again, just like earlier. I tilted my head. "How long had you been standing behind me?" I demanded. He remained silent. "Answer me!" I growled, my anger with him rising quite suddenly to the point where my hands were clenching into fists.

"You are in no position to give me--"

"I think I deserve to know! It's about me, isn't it? You were standing behind me longer than five minutes, I know that much, so why?"

He stood up suddenly, putting my vial on the table. Him standing so suddenly shocked me, so I stopped leaning on his desk, a little frightened at how quickly he had moved. "Do not interrupt me again, Miss Kensith, and I believe your attitude deserves five points taken from Slytherin. Did you honestly think I would not take points fro--"

"And I know damn well you will give Draco ten points by the end of the day--whenever you take points from me, you always make up for it, so I don't care about that, now tell me!"

"I told you not to interrupt me! Now go and sit down in your seat and stop presuming you know anything about how I regard you or why I give Draco points!" he yelled.

Oh, he was yelling, was he? He always thought he was so intimidating, with his black eyes always glinting and his narrow, tall frame. And the black robes and the greasy hair that fell on either side of his face. Well he didn't intimidate me. It wasn't like he would ever curse me, so what was I to be afraid of? It had taken me a whole term to finally get enough guts to talk back to him, and he should know that I wasn't going to stop, especially now.

His eyes swept the classroom and I glanced over my shoulder. The class was staring at us, somewhat awkwardly. Although we did argue often, the class always stared. It was always embarrassing to me when the realization hit me. It wasn't that I meant to start yelling and start a scene--although some probably think I do it for attention--but I would just get so angry with how he treated me although I always did my work in his class and tried my hardest for him to, at least once, give me a nod of approval. I didn't want him to hate me, obviously. So it angered me and I wanted to make him feel as worthless and hated as he made me feel, although obviously it never worked.

"And I asked you a question and I won't leave until you answer it!"

He snarled at me and gave me a look-over, as if I were unimportant. "Whilst perseverance is a trait that is useful, it is, at times, most annoying, especially when it is pointless to persevere. I have told you the answer, perhaps if you had been paying rapt attention, or dare I even suggest, writing notes, then you might be able to remember, but since you were not, I feel I have no need to repeat myself, and you will do as I say and sit down in your seat."

He was lying. He had to be. There was no reason for him to do that if he had known I'd been paying attention that first day. This was proof--solid proof--that I had been right all these years, and he really did hate me some reason, and I was going to get to the bottom of it. "You and I both know that is a lie. Admit it, you have something against me, and you just can't admit the fact you're a heartless bastard! You have no reason to hate me and you just like to make up reasons for it, but now you've admitted that I was paying attention that day, so you've admitted to there being no reason to hate me! Admit it! Tell everyone that are such a git that you take it out on people for no reason!"

"You are shouting out utter nonsense! You are just like your mother, aren't you?" The rage that was flowing through my veins seemed to gather in the pit of my stomach. Nobody compared me to my mother and got away with it. Since he was taller than I was, he was staring down at me. "Desperate for attention, just as she was, constantly begging for everyone to stop and stare at her! Constantly concerned with what others thought of her, following her precious idols, in love with the Dream Team Marauders, but was she ever accepted? Of course not! Now sit down, you insolent dunderhead!"

"Let's bring up your school years, huh? Tell stories about my mother, eh? You think I don't know any stories about you, Snivellus?"

In a flash he had stormed around his desk, heading right towards me, and my heart flew up into my throat. Him coming at me that quickly was somewhat intimidating, and when his hand flew towards my body I thought he was going to smack me so I stumbled back slightly and leaned my head back further so as to dodge the smack, but he grabbed my arm tightly. "You will respect me while in this classroom, while in my presence, do you understand me?"

"Let go of me," I ordered, trying to pull my arm out of his grasp. He had never grabbed me before. Then again, we usually argued with him behind his desk and me in the back of the room with more than enough space between us. Or I was sitting down and he was leaning above me. And I had never called him Snivellus before.

"We are discussing this out in the hall," he growled at me and started dragging me to the door, me fighting to pull free from him but I was practically tripping over my feet from him pulling me so roughly. "Nobody leaves this classroom, understood?" he snapped and the class nodded fearfully, looking into their potions.

"Dammit, let me go! You're bruising my arm! Let me go you son of a bitch! Dumbledore will hear about this! This is physical abuse!" I screamed at him, yanking my arm towards me as hard as I could. I was trying to think of anything that would make him let me go. " Stop it! Stop it! You're hurting me! Let me go, dammit!"

"You need to learn how to respect your elders, Miss Kensith, now quit acting like a three-year-old and perhaps I would," he said rather calmly as we neared the door, though I was struggling.

"Don't tell me what to do; you're not my mother!"

"Obviously, because if I were, I would have taught you respect by now," he retorted.

"What do you know about mothers? Apparently yours either didn't love you or did a horrible job of raising you, you bastard!" It wasn't until a moment after I finished my sentence that I realized he had stopped. I don't remember when he stopped moving toward the door, but he must have, because he was standing very still, his grip on my arm so tight my hand was starting to go numb.

He suddenly moved again, this time with more force, and so I tripped over my feet until he dragged me out of the classroom and slammed the door shut. I tried to run off down the hallway in the opposite direction than he was facing, but he whirled me around with such force I practically stumbled right in front of him, so that I was staring into his black eyes, and his clenched teeth, and my heart was thudding in my chest so hard I thought it was going to break through my ribs.

"You insolent bitch," he growled. He pulled me so close to him that I could feel his hot breath on my skin. I had never heard him call anyone a bitch and it sounded so foreign in his mouth. "I bet you think your mother is so amusing, don't you? Palling around with Black and Potter and Lupin and their sycophant friend Pettigrew, begging for their approval. I suppose she tells you they loved her and that she made the name Snivellus. You admire her, don't you?"

"I do not," I spat.

"Then why would you say that name?"

"She told me they called you that. I wanted to infuriate you," I admitted, glaring at him.

"You succeeded quite well."

"I am nothing like my mother," I told him.

"Perhaps not in looks, but in attitude . . ."

"I am not like her! But do you expect me to just sit back and let you taunt me? I'm sorry, but I refuse to be a coward!" He opened his mouth to speak, but I kept talking to prevent that. "I'm sick of you treating me like this; it's bullocks! And what's up with you, standing behind me? How long were you there? If you would've just answered my bloody question then this wouldn't have--"

"This is not my fault, Miss Kensith, had you not called me that endearing nickname, then perhaps this could have been settled in a much more pleasant way, and also, don't you _ever_ speak about my mother in that way again, do you understand me?" he sneered at me, giving me a little shake as he held my arm, his face mere inches from mine. His teeth were clenched together and his black eyes gleamed. He really was quite frightening.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You're going to let go of me, Professor," I growled at him, eyes narrowed. I couldn't really of a retort so I just decided to say that.

He looked at his hand, which was gripped onto my arm, and he practically tossed me away from him. I almost fell over backward, but I managed to stay upright.

"You will be serving detention with me, tonight, at eight. You _will_ be there."

We glared at each other for several seconds, then he yanked open the classroom door and jerked his head towards the doorframe to indicate for me to walk in. For a second there was urgent whispers and talking, but then the class shut up a second after he opened the door. I walked in, making sure to give him a dirty look as I walked past.

I sat in my desk and folded my arms, glaring at him as he walked behind his desk. For the rest of class, we glared at each other, hatred burning fiercely between us.

Chapter Two: How To Make A Detention Even Less Fun

It was amazing how quickly the day went by. Apparently me dreading detention at eight made that horrid hour come sooner than it should've. Before long, I found myself leaving the Slytherin common and walking through the dungeons to his office.

When I stood in front of his door, I knocked on it, hoping to God he wasn't in there and I wouldn't have to go through this. "Enter." Dammit.

I opened the door and stepped into his office, eyeing all the jars of pickled stuff lining his walls. I'd been in his office before, mostly to get yelled at or for detention. Still, looking at pickled things in the jars on his walls fascinated me. I stared at it, knowing I looked interested, but I couldn't help it. When I was in front of his desk, I finally looked at him. He was giving me a curious look, but I didn't particularly care.

"You will be helping me correct reports, Miss Kensith. It should not take long. Suffice to say, I don't want too much of my evening spent with you."

"Well that's something we have in common," I muttered as I sat down across from him.

He regarded me for awhile, eyes going over every feature of my face. I stared into his eyes, seeing that emotion again, the one I had figured out was hatred. For much longer than what was needed, we kept staring at each other, and I noticed that the emotion that I assumed was hatred seemed different.

"Why do you hate me?" I asked suddenly. The question fell out of my mouth before I even realized it had entered my brain.

His eyebrows raised suddenly, shocked. He looked away from me and focused down on a piece of parchment. He slid that parchment across the table. "This is something I wrote for you. I have written everything that should be addressed in the report, how many points to deduce from one hundred if it is not addressed as I have written, and I have also written the answers to the questions, appropriate responses, and if these deviate, then deduce the amount I have mentioned. It does not have to be word-for-word, however--I despise book verbatim. If someone writes something about ingredients being better when using it a certain way, or they had ideas, return the report to me so I can test these theories out."

I stared at his hand, which was on the parchment, and I went to grab it from him. My hand covered his. I didn't really notice it for a second, but then it felt like electricity shot up my arm. My hand froze and my heart in my chest forgot to beat a few times. At first I thought it only happened to me, but when I glanced up at him nervously, my arm tingling and my lungs suddenly weak, almost so I couldn't breathe, his face had paled and the muscles in his jaw tightened for a second. Then I pulled the parchment to me and found I couldn't look him in the eye afterwards.

I finally looked at him, expecting him to be writing on reports, but he was still looking at me. I blinked a few times, then I pretended like nothing odd had happened. "You have a habit of ignoring my questions, Professor."

"I don't hate you," he said calmly.

I frowned. "But, you're always mean to me, and you're always staring at me, and the expression in your eyes . . ."

"I don't hate you," he repeated, one brow raised.

I blinked a few times, trying to think of something to say, but I couldn't. If he didn't hate me, then what was that expression in his eyes?

"It is time for us to start on your detention."

I read over the reports and started correcting them, constantly rereading his piece of parchment hastily. It was no wonder he would get irritated so often in class--most of the students didn't know what they were writing about. Some tried to make an honest effort and others tried to make it up and try and make it sound realistic. The parchment was categorized into different classes, and I noticed that the Ravenclaws (didn't matter which year) seemed to be doing the best. When I got to the third year Slytherin and Gryffindor class, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy were really the only ones who did very well. Harry Potter did all right, but it was four inches shorter than the required length. So it was understandable why he was always irritated, especially with Potter.

It didn't take as long as I thought it would've taken, but I finally finished marking points and writing the correct answers and suggestions in red ink. Perhaps time had flown because I had been thinking deeply about what he had said, and about how he didn't hate me. That confused me even more, and it actually angered me as well, knowing that he didn't hate me and he still treated me that way.

I put my quill down but I remained sitting, mainly because I learned a long time ago not to leave a detention unless he told me to. He had finished a few minutes before me and he was sitting quietly. "I'm done Professor," I told him.

"I noticed. You finished sooner than I thought you would. However, I would like your assistance in something . . . I have a few cauldrons in my class that need cleaning. I was going to do it tomorrow night, however, considering that you have finished earlier than I expected, perhaps you could clean the cauldrons with me?"

The fact that he was asking, not telling, confused me. After a few moments of me staring at him, and him staring back, I cleared my throat. "Are you . . . Are you asking or telling?"

"Asking."

I nodded. "Yes."

We walked to his classroom quietly, not looking at each other. For some reason, I felt strange. The walk to the classroom took no time at all, and when he shut the door behind us, I felt like the air around me thickened. It was chillier than it normally was, even for the dungeons.

We both started cleaning the cauldrons. Snape wasn't using his wand, and so I decided to do it without my wand as well. We sat in silence, both of us on our knees, scrubbing the insides of the cauldrons. I had rolled my sleeves to my robes up, but I noticed he kept his sleeves down. The fact neither of us spoke should have been a comfort, but instead it weighed on me heavily. The noises of the scrubbing seemed to intensify with each second. I had to keep blowing my long, red hair out of my face so as to keep the cleaning potions away from my hair. I noticed that he kept staring at me, but whenever I made to look at him he looked away.

The silence was bugging me to the point I was starting to get antsy. "So, he hired Lupin? How do you think that'll go?" I asked randomly, mainly because my mother had told me the two of them hadn't gotten along.

I noticed he jumped slightly. "I don't suppose it will go very well, especially since Sirius Black is on the loose."

"My mum had a crush on Sirius. She talked about him a lot. She still talks about memories of him. I can't believe she followed him around for seven years."

"I suppose your mother makes it sound as though he followed her. She is quite a liar. Did you know that she hid her parentage her entire Hogwarts career? I didn't even know until the end of my seventh year."

"Of course I figured that out. She has the Dark Mark branded on her arm. I don't think You-Know-Who lets muggle-borns get Dark Marks. She lies a lot. I've lived with her my whole life. I can tell when she's lying." I rolled my eyes as I scrubbed harder. "She thinks Sirius Black a bloody hero, him betraying the Potters. She always goes on and on about her Death Eater days, like I should be proud or something. I hate her. She killed my dad, you know, to _prove_ that she loved You-Know-Who above everything else, even her muggle husband."

"Does she ever talk about me?" he asked warily.

"She thought you liked her. She told me you followed her around."

"No, I did not. I despised her. She was constantly lying. She followed those damn Marauders around, especially Sirius, and they did not even like her. They despised her. She followed me around to taunt me, only to get in their good graces. She was also jealous of anyone any of the Marauders liked, and so she made life a misery for--" He stopped talking suddenly, almost like he had caught himself just in time from saying a bad word or something. He blinked a few times. "For other people whose company I enjoyed."

I frowned. Why didn't he say that person's name? "You . . . were friends with someone the Marauders were friends with? Huh."

"I did have friends, Miss Kensith. Well . . . I had one friend, for awhile . . ."

I shrugged. "She never told me. All she ever did was tell me all of the fun things she did to you, and how you were the one who ruined her friendship with the marauders, and that it was you who ruined her life, and how much she hates you."

"I did not ruin her life. She started hexing me, and I retaliated, and ended up cutting her sleeve and showing her Dark Mark to Black, who was, of course, backing her up. They never went one-on-one with me." I did notice how he sounded a bit like he was defending himself.

"I don't care if you did. I hate her. She's a lying bitch and a Death Eater and I hate Death Eaters and she was really mean to you. You didn't deserve that. No one does. And I'm sorry Lupin is teaching here."

He stared at me for a long while, his eyes never leaving my face. I started to get uncomfortable with how he was staring at me and so I continued scrubbing my cauldron. "You seem awfully concerned with how I was treated."

"So?"

"I was under the impression you hated me."

I shrugged and I looked at him. "I don't hate you." He went back to cleaning his cauldron, a small tug on the side of his mouth. "You're always mean to me, and I . . . I did get my temper from my mother. You always stare at me with this . . . look in your eyes . . . And if you knew I was paying attention that day, I just don't see why you're always so mean to me, and I'm a Slytherin too, and I don't know why you were behind me for so long."

He nodded slowly, his head bowed so that his hair obscured my vision of his eyes. After a few seconds of silence, he let out a sigh. "This year will be . . . interesting, with Lupin teaching here, teaching the position I wanted, with his best friend on the loose." Once again, he avoided what I really wanted to know.

I couldn't really think of anything to say, so I just nodded. After a few minutes, he stood up off of the ground. "Will you assist me in placing these back on the shelf?"

I nodded and stood up. We quietly started putting the cauldrons back on the shelf, although I did notice how he kept sneaking glances at me. I wouldn't necessarily call them amorous glances, it wasn't like he was staring at me like how most would stare at a crush, but in a different way. Almost like he was staring at an emotional picture. I picked up a heavier-than-I-expected-it-to-be cauldron and stumbled under its weight. He rushed to help me put it up, and we both stumbled trying to gain control of it. I realized too late the reason why it was heavy was because it was full of potion still, and it slipped out of our grasp and hit the floor, splashing potion all over our robes.

"Bloody hell!" I yelled and started using my hands to wipe it off of me in a panicky way. He grabbed my forearms to stop me from doing that and to stop me from jumping around.

"Miss Kensith, the potion is completely harmless--the brewer added too much of one ingredient and rendered it useless. Calm down." I stood straight and looked into his eyes. We were extremely close. Just as close as we had been earlier that day, when he held my arm and yelled at me. For some reason, this time I really noticed it, and the temperature seemed to rise considerably. His eyes roamed my face, then he let go of me and stepped back so quickly it was almost like he'd been shocked by some form of electricity.

I pulled out my wand. "I sorry, I didn't mean to. I'll clean it up." I felt really stupid. I knew I was blushing. I was an idiot sometimes.

"I thought you had all of your cauldrons cleaned. You should have checked."

"Well, excuse me, Professor, next time I won't help clean at all. I'm not your mother."

He narrowed his eyes at me. "I'll clean this up. After all, you're not my mother." He whipped out his own wand and raised both of his eyebrows mockingly. "Also, I'm not quite sure of your abilities, and you might not be capable of something of this difficulty if you cannot even manage to check a cauldron."

"I'm perfectly capable!" I snapped and pointed my wand at him, standing up straighter and pursing my lips. I knew I looked haughty.

He grabbed my right hand with his left and pointed it away from him, stepping so close I could feel his body heat. His grip on my wrist was gentle, but strong enough so that I couldn't easily pull it away. I could almost see the reflection of my green irises in his black ones and my heart skipped a beat.

He seemed to realize how close we were and his eyes looked away from mine and he shifted a little uncomfortably. "What do you prefer, Miss Kensith?"

"I would prefer if you let me do the cleaning spell," I said, although I wasn't sure if it was because I wanted to or just because he didn't want me to. Then I smirked at him. "That is, if you think I can manage it."

"I suppose you should be able to. You're a witch."

"Well, that's not a very nice thing to say about someone," I stated, being sarcastic, although for some reason, probably because he was so close, it came out a little different than I had expected it to. It sounded a little meaner, too.

His eyes widened and his mouth opened slightly, almost like he had just been hit upside the head. He stared at me with the oddest expression--it was sad and confused at the same time. He was staring at me with that expression again, and I realized what it was--a mixture of adoration and sadness and wanting. For some reason I think I preferred it when I thought it was hatred, because that frightened me. Why was he staring at me like a long-lost lover?

"Professor?" I whispered.

He blinked and shook his head so slightly I almost didn't catch it. "Well perhaps I think differently. I'm not quite sure I'm comfortable with you pointing your wand at me."

I reached up to tug his hand away from my wrist and he moved his hand further away, so that I actually tugged down his left sleeve. For a whole moment I didn't know why he gasped and jerked away from me. Then I recognized the black tattoo on his left forearm and as my wand dropped to the floor, my stomach dropped too. The clattering of my wand seemed to go unnoticed by him and I barely acknowledged it.

"Miss Kensith--"

"I have to go," I muttered and hurried out of his classroom and went quickly to the common room for a quick shower before bed. Thank God the Slytherin common room was nearby, because for some reason it didn't feel like my legs could handle more distance than that.

I felt like a complete idiot. I didn't realize until about one in the morning that I had left my wand in Snape's classroom. I never slept until late anyway, so it wasn't the first time I had snuck out past curfew. I usually stayed near the dungeons or other dark areas of the school. The teachers did patrol that area, but it was easier to hide in case I heard something. It scared the hell out of me--I'm scared of the dark--so I would use wand light, although that would make it easier for them to see me. Well, I would, if I had my wand.

I looked around myself as I neared the Potions classroom. No one was around, so I went to open the door. The door stayed shut. "Oh, bloody hell," I grumbled quietly as I tried to open it again, although it was stupid since I already knew it was locked. I tried it once more, then groaned. Normally I would've used my wand to unlock it, but since my wand was actually in the classroom, then I couldn't.

All night I had been thinking of how the Dark Mark looked on his pale skin. So, Snape was a Death Eater? Or at least, he had been . . . But did people really stop being Death Eaters? Could they actually stop? Or was he still a Death Eater, even if you-Know-Who was gone? Had my mother known? But in order to get my wand, I would have to ask him to open the door. Either that, or I could just wait until morning and get it then. But then I would have to take time away from one of my classes or breakfast or one of his classes and I doubt he would want that.

Groping through the darkness, hoping I didn't bump into someone, I found my way to his office. I didn't have to grope for much longer, since the door was open. I heard an odd sound coming from the room. It sounded a bit like a struggle, like perhaps he was getting in a fight. When I heard him yell, I suddenly panicked and I bolted to the door, reaching into my robes for the wand that wasn't there.

I ran into Snape's office with my fists ready and saw Snape yelling at the ceiling and knocking everything off of his desk. I watched quietly as Snape started kicking his desk and yelling and screaming. His office was trashed. Parchment littered the floor and so did quills and books. I had never heard Snape yell before. Well, I had, but not like that. And I never really imagined him losing control like that, either. It was strange. I had no idea what to think.

He leaned over and put his hands on the edge of his desk and took in several deep breaths, and I heard the shakiness, which proved that he was trying not to cry. Then he turned around, I assume to pick up his mess, but then he saw me. He didn't say anything, but I could tell he was angry and embarrassed.

"I heard . . . uh, noises. I thought you were being attacked, so . . . I mean, I left my wand in your class and I needed you to get it out, so I came here, and that's when I heard the noises. What happened?"

"It doesn't matter. It's nothing important." I would have believed him, had I not seen his little tantrum.

"Uh, not to sound like a know-it-all, but you just screamed and trashed your room. You don't seem like a guy who does that often." I raised my eyebrow at him.

He shook his head and pulled out his wand, turning a little to his left so he was at an angle he didn't have to look at me. He waved his wand and things realigned back to how they should have been, almost like he hadn't done a thing to his room at all. After everything was back to normal, he still refrained from looking at me, though I could see his profile. "It doesn't concern you," he finally said, in a quiet voice.

"But it concerns you."

He turned his head towards me, then his turned his body to face me. The dim lights of his office glinted off of his greasy hair and cast shadows on his thin, sallow face. I hadn't noticed it until now, but his office was actually quite dark. Light barely filled it enough, just enough to be able to read and see. He nodded once, almost like he was accepting something unpleasant. "Yes," he murmured. I barely heard him.

I walked fully into his office, very slowly. My eyes remained on his. They were shining slightly. I was afraid of him, my heart was still pounding in my ribs, because I knew he had the Dark Mark on his arm, and I knew damn well what the Mark meant. But, seeing him like that somehow made me feel like I should comfort him, even though he had never shown me decency. Besides, what would he think of me, now that he saw me, if I just shrugged it off and walked away? He was my Head of House.

"Do you . . . want to talk about it?" I asked, when I was nearly right in front of him.

"Will you listen, if I so choose?"

"Yes." He tilted his head slightly, apparently unsure. "Is it about Lupin?"

He shook his head. "This day . . . has been unpleasant."

"Because of me? Is it because I saw your--" I cut off. He looked at me, waiting for me to finish. I don't know why I couldn't finish the sentence, because he knew what I was talking about, but I couldn't say what was on his arm. "Your tattoo?" I finished after a second's awkward pause.

"Partly. I was also just informed I have to perform a . . . certain service for Lupin, which I would rather choose not to. And . . . I just received a letter from my father." He indicated lined paper on his desk. Muggle paper. Written in pencil. "He is a muggle," he explained when he saw my expression. I nodded at him. "My mother . . . she has . . ." He clenched his teeth together, then turned away from me, so that I could only see his back. His breathing was suddenly heavy. I could tell because of the rising and falling rhythm of his back. "She was very ill, but I had not thought . . ." His voice was thick and the words were spoken too evenly, too carefully. He was trying to hold back tears. "My father just informed me of her passing."

My heart stopped for a second and my throat dried. Snape's mother just died? On the same day I had insulted her? Even though this couldn't possibly have been my fault, I felt guilty, as though it somehow was. I reached forward and put my hand on his back, to comfort him.

He flinched, as though burned. I jerked my hand away. My hand stayed in midair though, and I slowly brought it forward and touched his back again. As soon as my hand touched him again, he spun around and grabbed my wrist. He stared down at me, almost angrily, and I gasped and jumped. "Why are you doing this?" he demanded quietly.

"D-Doing what?" I stammered, body starting to shake. What the hell was this attitude about?

"Why are you . . . In here, talking to me . . . Comforting me? What is in it for you?"

I shook my head. "N-Nothing, sir. I just . . . I just thought you looked sad and I . . . I-I wanted to help, I guess . . . I'm not, uh, there's not anything in it for me."

His unwavering glare was really freaking me out. He was angry with me, but at the same time, for some reason, I got the feeling that he felt guilty. "You are a Slytherin, and we do not get along. Why are you comforting me?"

"I . . . Professor, I just, I left my wand in your class, and I . . . You seemed so upset, and what would you think of me if I just walked off? I'm sorry, I won't . . . if you didn't want to talk about it . . . And yeah, I'm a Slytherin, and I do . . . manipulate and . . . But I'm not now, not to you. I really was just concerned. I thought . . . I thought it was because of me, because of your . . . the tattoo."

He released my wrist. "You are actually concerned for me, then. It surprises me, as it did earlier today. But, I should not allow you to . . . do this for me. You are a student, and I am your professor, and I should keep our relationship as such. It was wrong of me to let you in to comfort me."

"Why?"

"For the same reason I look at you, Miss Kensith, the same reason I have the expression you pointed out to me earlier," he murmured.

So he was admitting it then. It shocked me that he was admitting it. I had even wondered if he knew he was doing it. I blinked. "What reason is that, sir?"

Her narrowed is black eyes and I recognized _that_ expression immediately. It always came right before he started insulting me. "Never mind," I added quickly.

He continued staring at me.

"Professor," I started cautiously, reminding myself that before today, I would never have put that much politeness in my tone in regards to him, and that I generally disliked him, "I am a fourth year, I am fourteen, and I know--_I know_--that you would _never_ take advantage of me, and you should not feel bad for wanting me to comfort you, and there's nothing wrong with being comforted by anyone, and even if the headmaster, or even the minister himself, walked in on me hugging you right now, I'm sure it wouldn't matter, since your Mum just died."

It was like the word 'died' had physically hit him. He reeled slightly and water sprung up in his black eyes. He fell to the floor, well, more like sat suddenly, a dazed expression on his face. I sat beside him. Before I even registered what was happening, he put his hands in his face and cried into his palms.

I had no idea what to do. Snape was crying--literally crying--into his hands, and I was sitting next to him, and I had no idea how to handle this situation. A few minutes into this, I figured I might as well do what came to me first, and I patted him on the shoulder before putting my arm around him, leading his head to be on my shoulder, and put my other hand on his knee. For some reason, the way he was acting reminded me very much of when I was a child and I had been teased by a schoolmate, and I had been crying in the living room and how I wished my mother would have comforted me, but how she ignored me entirely.

After a long while of this, he pulled his head away, finally done crying, and he leaned the back of his head against the bottom of his desk, and I pulled my arm away from around his shoulders. He stared at the ceiling for awhile. "I had no friends growing up," he told me without preamble.

"Oh, I'm . . . I'm sorry . . ." Though his face was raised to look at the ceiling, I saw his dark eyes flit to me for a second. "I didn't have friends either. Not until . . . well, I wouldn't necessarily say I have friends now, either. So I really do feel sorry." I knew I sounded defensive, and like I was justifying my sentence to him.

"I am surprised at that. You seem to be the type of girl who would have many friends."

"Well, my neighbourhood wasn't full of witches, and I wasn't allowed to leave the house except to go to primary school, so people thought we were freaks. People at school thought I was a freak, too. And here, well, no one likes Slytherin, and when your own Head of House seems to hate you, people of your own house avoid you like the plague." I didn't try to hide my annoyance, but I probably should have.

If he was upset at my annoyed tone, he didn't show it. "I had no friends, until I was ten. Before that, my only source of comfort was my mother, even when Father was in one of his . . . moods." The tone he used on moods let me know that his father was an unpleasant man, and coming from Snape, it must've been pretty bad.

"Oh. So . . . You two were close, then? Your mother and you."

He barely nodded.

"Do you . . . Do you want to contact your friend? You know, the one you met when you were ten?"

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say.

He banged the back of his head against the desk and let out the worst noise I had ever heard--it was a mixture between a sob and a yell. Snape had been crying into his hands about his mother, but now he was practically sobbing hysterically, sounding like some wounded animal. He only sobbed that once, but it was a sound I knew would haunt me whenever I thought about it.

"I'm sorry, if you'd rather not, that's okay, I was just thinking--" I rambled.

"She is also dead, and if she were not, it would not matter, because she . . . we were no longer friends after my fifth year." His eyes were closed tight and his lips were pursed as well. I was getting rather uncomfortable, sitting beside him on the hard floor, not knowing what his emotional outbursts would bring. His mood changed quickly today. It was odd. "The friends, I use the term loosely, I had after that were . . . unpleasant. Mother was the only one after our . . . separation who showed concern for me. At least I can say that Mother's death was not my fault."

"What do you mean? Of course death is never your--" When his right hand grabbed his left forearm, it all made sense to me. "Oh." So his friend died because of him. I really wished I hadn't pieced it together, because now I felt sick.

He removed his hand. "You are too intelligent for your own good, Miss Kensith. I wish you were not." His voice was hoarse, which was odd, since he usually had a smooth voice. "I would appreciate it if you never spoke of her again, and I would also appreciate it if you never mention that it was I who killed her. Perhaps not directly . . ."

I nodded. I couldn't talk.

"This is precisely why I did not want you here," he snapped and stood up wearily, wiping underneath his eyes, although he didn't seem to be embarrassed at all. "I believe it is time we get your wand, and you should be off to bed. You will speak of this to no one, understand? You will speak of nothing that happened tonight. The Dark Mark remains a secret, as does any mention of the friend I once had, and what happened to her, do you understand? You will not speak of this."

Even though I felt like he needed to have the crap beat out of him for killing his friend and for having the tattoo, I nodded. I guess I was a little afraid of him after all. Earlier today I thought I couldn't like him less than I already did. I was wrong. Now I hated him. I felt bad about his mum dying, but I had nothing but utter disgust for him. He stared me in the eyes as I seethed at him. How could anyone kill the only true friend that person had?

"You do not hide your disgust very well, Miss Kensith."

I looked away from him. "Yeah, well, other than your mother dying, I don't feel bad for you at all. It takes a certain type person to do what you've done, and I don't mean it in a good way. The same type as it takes to kill a husband. The same type as my mother."

He nodded. "And I have never pretended to be a saint, nor do I deny that I am someone unworthy to live. Now, we will get your wand and then we shall never speak of this again. However, you were rather kind to me tonight, and I will not forget it." I felt an odd feeling in my chest. "That being said, five points will be taken from Slytherin for your late wandering."

Asshole.

Chapter Three: To Trust or Not to Trust, That is the Question

The next time I had Potions, I had no idea if our relationship had changed. Would we be civil now, because I had seen him that way? Or would he become surlier? I had a suspicion he would become ruder. Not that I cared, because I loathed the very core of his murderous, Death Eater being.

I showed up early to Potions, so I was waiting outside of the door while I listened to him point out Neville Longbottom's mistakes in his potion. I tried to remember if I had corrected his report or not, but nothing came up in my mind, so I had either forgotten or Snape had corrected it.

I waited for awhile, listening through the closed door. It wasn't very long before class ended and, as usual, students filed out rather quickly. I walked into the classroom and found that one student was still in there, although he was obviously trying to hurry up. It looked like someone had knocked over his schoolbags and he was trying to put them away.

When he turned around, I realized it was Harry Potter. I had never seen him close up before. I had only seen him from afar, or on a broomstick. I wish I could say that I wasn't impressed, or that I didn't have the need to go up and talk to him and shake his hand. Truth was, though, I really did. This boy had managed to get rid of You-Know-Who when he was just a baby. Obviously it wasn't him alone and something had to have stepped in--luck or fate or whatever--but it was still amazing and cool. My mother hated him, obviously, but I respected him. But I figured he didn't' want another person doting over him, so I restrained myself and just smiled at him and nodded while he walked past me.

He glanced at me as he passed, then did a double-take. I smiled again at him, although I did it warily. I noticed he had vividly green eyes that looked very similar to mine. Huh. I'd never known his eye colour before. He had rather messed up hair, though, but ti was black, like Snape's. For some reason it felt wrong to compare Snape and Harry.

"Did you need something, Harry?" I asked, more than willing to help him with anything.

He shook his head. "No, nothing . . . sorry, you just looked . . . familiar. Never mind." He then hurried out of the classroom, glancing back at me once.

I noticed Snape was staring at me evilly, with his lips pursed, and he glared at Harry's retreating back. I had no idea what that was about, but it was unpleasant. "Er . . . Good afternoon, Professor."

He blinked once. "Are you going to sit or shall I teach you standing, Miss Kensith?"

I scoffed and sat down in my seat. By the looks of it, nothing had changed. Not that I wanted it to. "How's your dad?" I asked, mainly because I felt the need to talk.

"I couldn't really care less about my father. Nor should you. He isn't someone I would consider deserving of our concern." He was not looking at me, but at the many reports and vials on his desk. "He deemed it not deserving of his time to show up to Mother's funeral," he informed me in a dark tone.

I frowned. "He didn't?"

"He never forgave my mother for being a witch," he told me as he lifted up several phials of potions turned into him and started over to where I assume he put them to be later graded.

"Your father doesn't like magic?"

"He doesn't like much of anything, really," he snarled.

I was about to say something comforting, but before I could really even open my mouth, I heard him drop some of the phials with the sounds of shattering glass.

Before I could ask what had happened, a few students filed in. He glared at me as though I had insulted him, and then proceeded to teach class. He didn't even look at me once that entire day.

Our relationship, for lack of a better term, did not change at all. We still argued in class, and he still looked at me with that odd expression on his face. As the days grew colder, so did his attitude. Not that I cared any, really. In fact, if I saw him in the halls, I would give him dirty looks. He responded with even dirtier ones. He even seemed to give me more detentions. Not with him, obviously, usually with McGonagall or Hagrid, or someone he was angry with. Well, I had a detention with him once, but we stayed on opposite sides of the room, and I didn't even look at him once.

I couldn't get the fact that he killed his friend out of my mind. Every time I looked at him, I just imagined him pointing his wand at some random person, usually male, and shouting the killing curse. I wondered how many people missed that friend. I wondered why he had done it. Then I wondered how many people he had killed and tortured, or if he felt guilty at all. Perhaps he was like my mother and the only reason he wasn't a Death Eater was because You-Know-Who was no longer around.

Maybe the reason he didn't like Harry Potter was because he had been the one to get rid of his master.

I knew how James had treated him because my mother had told me, so I didn't doubt a lot of that hate came from that, but the thought that perhaps Harry _surviving_ had also fuelled that hate wouldn't leave my mind. I respected Harry, I thought he was extremely lucky, and yeah people favoured him and he got away with a lot, but he seemed like a good kid. He seemed very down-to-earth. Most people would become arrogant and conceited if they lived their whole lives being as famous as he was, but he seemed like he didn't even care. How could I hate that? You-Know-Who was gone because of him and Snape hated him. After seeing the Dark Mark, I had to wonder. My mother hated Harry Potter because of it, so who was to say Snape was any different?

I didn't know why I felt so betrayed, because it wasn't like I ever really trusted Snape. In fact, I had always disliked him, and I had always hated how he treated me. Of course I _wanted_ to like him in the same way I wanted him to like me back, or to notice how good I was in his class. Who didn't want that from their Head of House?

Why did my mother tease him and hate him, if they were practically the same?

It was the first Quidditch match of the year, and Hufflepuff was against Gryffindor. Normally it would've been Slytherin against Gryffindor, but Draco's arm was hurt too badly to play apparently. He hurt it during Care of Magical Creatures, which wasn't that surprising, really, since Hagrid didn't have the same sense of safety as most people.

The rain was pounding down so hard I couldn't even see the Quidditch match. I was shivering and my body was so cold it felt like a knife sliced my skin each time a drop hit me. My robes were heavy with water and my teeth were chattering heavily. This really was too much trouble to sit and watch, considering I didn't really like sports. The cold wind added to the torment.

"Sod this," I grumbled, then turned away.

I pushed my was through the stands, ignoring the insults as I brushed by. Apparently people didn't think I should leave in the middle of a match. Either that, or they didn't like being interrupted by me bumping into them while I was trying to leave. But I was just too damn wet and cold to stay and watch something that I couldn't even really see.

I was heading towards the school when the air around me seemed to get even colder. A different type of cold--almost like it was from the inside. A deep depression swarmed over me as I thought about Snape and how he killed his friend, and how my mother killed my father. I was only two when it happened, so I couldn't really remember much of my dad, or how it had happened, all I remember was the green light that seemed to fill my vision and my father falling to the ground.

My body was shaking and my eyes were staring to burn with tears while the sadness deepened and filled my chest almost to the point it felt like my chest was going to burst. My vision began to blur, but I saw what was making me so miserable--Dementors. I don't know how many, more than I could count, but the rain prevented me from getting a clear view. I was starting to get dizzy and my body was getting weak.

"_Sandra, what the hell are you doing?"_ I heard a man ask frantically. I knew it was my father, although I could not really remember what he sounded like. My mother was named Sandra.

"_I have love for one man. Avada Kedavra!" _

I fell to my knees although I tried to run in the opposite direction. They loomed closer, sucking all feeling except depression right out of me. My vision blurred further as the freezing rain seemed to strengthen and get colder.

Tears fell down my face as I toppled over on my back, my father's yell filling my ears. Other screams filled my ears too, as dementor after dementor glided over me, drawing in sucking, rasping breaths, which seemed to be louder than the rain.

I heard someone yell, "Expecto Patronum!" After that, a silvery white doe entered my vision, and then everything went black.

I felt warm hands on my face, brushing my soaking hair away from my eyes. The warm palms moved down both of my cheeks as they held my head. I kept my eyes closed, although I was awake. I don't know why. I guess I liked the feeling of warm flesh against my damp, cold face. "Miss Kensith?" I heard Snape whisper.

My heart leapt into my throat. Why was Snape touching my face? Just as I was about to tell him to back off, he ran his fingers through my wet hair, then brushed his knuckles down my face. I realized I was lying on something soft, and even though I was cold, I was very comfortable. Even though I knew what Snape had done and I hated him for it, for some reason I didn't mind him touching my face.

When his knuckles went along my jaw line and down the side of my throat, warmth swelled in the pit of my stomach and the heat spread along my skin. My lungs seemed be working harder on their own volition and I tried to keep myself from hyperventilating. Both of his hands went underneath my head, his wrists brushing the back of my neck. He pulled me up into his chest and hugged me tightly, wrapping his arms around me. He didn't seem to mind that I was still wet and cold.

I felt his warm cheek against mine and my eyes opened. I kept my arms limp, unsure of what I should do. When I was about to say something, I heard him sniffle and he rocked. "Lily . . ." he whispered.

Not knowing who Lily was, I decided it was time to let him know I was awake. I made a quiet moan in the back of my throat, hoping it sounded like I was still somewhat asleep, and I fidgeted a little before closing my eyes.

I heard his breath catch, then he gently, but quickly, lowered me to the bed we were on. I lied there for a few seconds, then I slowly opened my eyes. I seemed to be even colder than I had been before now that he wasn't holding me. I still had an emptiness inside me that I had felt from the dementors, but it wasn't nearly as overwhelming as before.

He was sitting beside me while I lied there, acting as though nothing had happened. "Miss Kensith, you are quite lucky I was there. Dementors are rather hard to get rid of."

"Oh . . . thank you . . ." I slowly sat up and found my body was still shivering. "How long was I out?"

"Five minutes, if that. I've brought you to my quarters. Madam Pomfrey would have just fussed over you and insist you stay there and miss classes. However, that is quite unnecessary. Chocolate will suffice. I brought you here to make sure you . . . would wake. I was worried that perhaps they . . . Kissed you."

"Why . . . Why aren't you wet?"

"I've performed a drying and warming charm on myself. I would have done so for you, but I felt that performing any charm--other than a life-saving one--on someone not able to give consent was wrong. But you are capable of doing that yourself, I am sure, but I did not have your consent beforehand, and so you may do it now."

I nodded and rubbed my hands on my arms. I kept thinking about Lily, whoever that was, and how Snape had gotten rid of the dementors. "Professor?"

"Yes, Miss Kensith?"

"That was your Patronus? The doe?"

He nodded slowly and looked away. "Yes."

Whether or not he knew what that meant was unknown to me, but I was sure he knew because he was smart. "So . . . you . . . you can cast a Patronus." It wasn't a question. He just raised an eyebrow at me again. "Death Eaters don't cast Patronuses. My mother told me that they have no need to, but I know it's because they can't. They live the exact opposite of what a Patronus needs. I've heard a bit about the theory in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Remember? That girl asked and you got all angry and told her to finish the werewolf assignment."

"I know the theory as well," he informed, almost haughtily.

"So . . . You don't believe that stuff anymore? You're not like my mother?"

"Do you think Dumbledore would have hired me if I was not trustworthy?"

He had a point there. "Oh . . . So, er, when did you decide against it? After he died or what?"

He stared at me for awhile, looking me over as he tended to do quite often, then he pursed his lips. "You should be going. I would suggest eating some chocolate." He got off the bed and opened his bedroom door.

I sat on the bed for awhile, staring at him. He stood just as still, holding the door open, waiting for me to leave. The silence was incredibly awkward. So many things were going through my head. The name Lily kept repeating in my mind, in his voice. He had used a tone I'd never heard before, something barely above a whisper and full of . . . love. I had never experienced love, meaning I had never felt it for anyone (not even my parents, since my father died before I really could and my mother is the bitch who killed him) and no one had felt it towards me. Except for probably my dad. Somehow, though, I knew that the emotion had been love.

"Why do you always do that?" I finally gathered up the courage to ask. He remained silent for awhile, so I assumed it was safe to talk again. "Why do you avoid my questions?" I rephrased.

"You have a habit of asking questions I'd rather not answer, ones that are far too perceptive and manage to involve the exact thing I should not talk about, especially with you. Whether it be fate or something else, it seems to be . . . recurring."

Questions he did not want to answer. Which were the ones he refused to answer Which ones were the questions he avoided? He avoided exactly what emotion he stared at me with, and he avoided questions that involved . . . Me. Why he looked at me, why he stood behind me . . . and when he switched sides. Was there a connection?

I finally got off the bed and walked to the door. I stopped when I was right beside him, then looked into his black eyes. I actually sought his eyes. I had never done that before. He usually sought mine. Our eyes locked for only a moment before he looked away and turned his head a bit. "Thank you, professor," I mumbled awkwardly, then hurried out of his quarters.

As I walked to the Slytherin common room, shivering, I realized something. I didn't know if it was an unpleasant realization or a pleasant one, but it happened nonetheless. I trusted Snape enough to let him touch my face, even before I knew it was his Patronus that had saved me. I had trusted him all along, so that was why I had felt so betrayed when found out about his Mark. I didn't know why I trusted him or since when I had, but I had.

I didn't sleep at all that night. My mind kept going over how tender he had been with me, and how he had called me Lily in that tone. Despite what I had thought about that overgrown bat of a git called Snape, his heart was not made of a block of ice, because no man could say just one name with that much emotion and be complete berk.

Note to self: slight emphasis on complete.


	2. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: A Book for Safekeeping

Christmas morning was cold and quiet. Very few fellow Slytherins decided to stay, mainly because they actually liked their families, or because they didn't like staying in school. I had a suspicion some of them were afraid of Sirius Black, but no one had mentioned anything about that.

Personally, I had a feeling I would get more of Sirius Black at home then I would here. My mother would probably talk my ear off about how brave he was and wonderful it was that he was trying to get revenge on that Potter brat and that I should be more like him. Either that, or it would be a constant argument. Either way, I did not want to go home. Then again, I never did go home.

Snape and I hadn't really gotten in an argument since the night he rescued me from the Dementors. We didn't talk or anything, but at least we didn't get into fights anymore. I did catch him looking at me every now and then with that weird emotion, but I didn't call him on it.

It was sometime around noon when I woke up. I went downstairs to find that I didn't have any gifts, except for the one from my mother, which I knew was probably going to be a pair of new robes. That's usually what she got me. Once she got me a book of Dark Arts, and it was interesting enough. I knew it probably wasn't a good thing, but Dark Arts fascinated me, probably in the way bad guys fascinated most people in literature or in movies. I liked learning about all the horrible things people could do. Then again, how could one protect himself unless he knew what could be done to him? And maybe I wanted to fight dirty. It wasn't like I wanted to be a Death Eater or anything.

I opened my present, expecting robes, but instead it was a book. It was a book on Occlumency and Legilimency. I had never heard either of those words before, or at least, not that I could remember. There was a piece of parchment with it. Mother normally didn't send cards. It read:

_Danielle--_

_Don't let Snape ask you any questions about me. If he does, you'll need these. Anything he says about Sirius and me is a lie, and anything he says about my parentage is a lie. If I ever find out you use these on me, you will pay dearly._

_Remember: Snape is a liar, and anything about me that he spouts off is also a lie, especially if it's about Sirius or my parents._

_He was a Death Eater, too, by the way. Unlike me, though, he does not deserve it. He is a mud blood loving fool, and I don't understand why the Dark Lord trusted him. But, then again, look at Sirius--I wouldn't have expected him to turn in the Potters. I guess that was a cover. Him escaping is brilliant. I'd be proud if you turned out half as great as he is._

_I hear Lupin is teaching again. Pathetic. You mentioned he always looked at you weird? Well, if he keeps looking at you, tell Dumbledore he's making advances and make sure he gets fired. Lupin is slime. Then again, with the exception of Sirius, they were all slime. Especially Snape. How dare he believe himself worthy of a Dark Mark when he spent all his years palling around with that mud blood?_

_Oh, if only the Dark Lord hadn't fallen. If only you could get the Dark Mark. You aren't a fool. You were born half-blood, yes, but I am a pure-blood, and you should never feel ashamed. The Dark Lord is also a half-blood and look at all the wonderful things he tried to do. It's such a shame people always fear a revolutionary._

_I suppose the Dark Lord trusted Snape, and so I therefore must as well. But other than that, I hate him, he ruined my life, and apparently he seems dead set on ruining yours by making it hell. If he continues giving you detentions, just tell him to sod off. It isn't your fault he ruined his friendship and you got your muggle father's red hair and green eyes, is it? Mud bloods are so unaware of how useless they are. Tell him to get over her, it's his fault it happened._

_Anyway, read this, it's important. Besides, I don't want Snape seeing anything about me in that head of yours. I never could learn it--I didn't need to--but Snape, well, for some reason, he was trusted to spy on Dumbledore. I was a far better candidate._

_---Mother_

I reread the letter a few times. It wasn't that I really cared what my mother thought, and I had only written her saying I was too busy to go home on Christmas as usual, but I had the strangest feeling that something important was written in that letter.

I rolled my eyes. Mother was always convinced I'd make a great Death Eater. Never mind the fact I would never even consider joining him. I think in order to be a Death Eater, I had to hate muggle borns on sight. And how was that even possible? How could I judge an entire group of people without knowing them? It didn't make sense. Also, I think the whole Death Eater thing turned me off when she murdered my muggle father, and felt she had to lie about her parentage in order to feel important. Seriously, how dumb did she think I was? My grandparents were also mysteriously dead, and Lucius Malfoy doesn't call everyone he meets a filthy mud blood in her own home, then turn to me and say I had much more promise since I had purer blood. As if I wouldn't notice the very still picture of her with her parents beside a car.

I folded the note up and put it inside my book, then held the book to my chest. Later, I might read the book. I didn't have anything else to do. So, Snape was supposed to spy on Dumbledore? If he was a spy, Dumbledore did trust him, and it would make sense . . . But no, I had learned to trust Snape. Death Eaters couldn't produce Patronuses, could they? Then again, it's possible my mother was lying. She lied constantly, anyway.

I was heading towards the Great Hall, looking at all the decorations in the hall. Hogwarts really did go all out for Christmas. The silver and red and green decorations seemed somewhat pointless, though--hardly anyone stayed. I guess I felt a little jealous--Hogwarts went all out for the very few students who stayed, and my own mother only gave me one gift and never decorated when I was little.

It wasn't that my mother hated me, because I knew she loved me--or at least, she loved what she wanted me to become--I just didn't think she ever really liked the whole 'mum' thing. She flat out refused to see who I really was and lived in her own little world that I was someone else.

I got so lost in the decorations and thinking about my mother that I didn't even notice that someone had walked out of a room. I bumped into him and dropped my book to the floor. "Sorry," Lupin said, steadying me.

"It's fine."

He truly looked at me when I spoke, and I saw him blink. He seemed surprised to see me. He flashed a rather nervous grin and shifted slightly. "Hello, Danielle. How are you?"

Something I really liked about Lupin was that he used my first name. I wouldn't call him attractive, but, well, he was far more attractive than Snape, and since those two were the only male professors under the age of eighty, it wasn't as though I would be checking out any of the others. Still, he had an air of geniality about him, even though he looked older than he really was. I could tell he was put-off by my being in Slytherin by how he acted, but he wasn't as obvious with it as Hagrid was, who would flat-out not speak with me. Or give me points. Ever. Not that I mind, though, because Snape never gave Gryffindor points, and everyone knew Hagrid favoured Harry whereas Snape hated the boy, so favouritism didn't bother me. I just liked that Lupin hid it well. Plus, he was an amazing teacher, and he did have a dry (but kind) sense of humour. Though he did kind of give me push-over vibes, I liked him.

"I'm fine." Did I mention he had amazing eyes? I pointedly looked away from them as I felt my heart rate increase. Truth be told, I rather liked him. I liked how he talked in class, and how he taught. I also liked how he looked at me. It was similar to the way Snape looked at me, only less intense. Almost as though he recognized me from somewhere and it fascinated him.

Not that I had a crush on him. Of course not. He was a teacher and I was a student.

Well, perhaps just a little.

We both bent down to pick up what I had dropped, and my head smacked his. "Ow," I muttered, then grabbed my head with my hand and stood up.

"I'm sorry!" he gasped, then stood up with me, and put his hands on my shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine," I mumbled, then looked away form him. He must think I'm an idiot now. Not that I cared. I quickly picked up my open book and closed it. "I'll see you in class," I called as I rushed down the hall, cheeks burning.

I enjoyed reading. I, however, did not enjoy reading in the common room, where everyone else enjoyed to read, because I liked to be alone. Whenever I tried to read around other people, it always felt like they were hovering over me, and then they tried talking with other people, and that frustrated me beyond belief. It was hard to read when people were prattling beside me about who was cuter, Draco Malfoy or Blaise Zabini. In my opinion, Blaise Zabini was, and anyone with eyes would pick him over that pale, pointed prat, but both of them were spoiled and full of themselves, so I would pick neither, and had I wanted to talk about them, I wouldn't have been reading, and so it bothered me. Concentrating when others were talking was hard enough without thinking of spoiled boys.

Something I noticed my second year was that no one liked walking through the dungeons unless necessary, since Snape had a habit of giving detention and taking points. I always read there. Whenever Snape passed, he merely noticed my presence, told me to not disturb him, and continued on his way. It seemed to be the only time he didn't feel the need to insult me. Or at least, until recently, when we both decided that ignoring each other was the appropriate response to what had happened the night of the Quidditch match.

I still had not forgotten about the name Lily and how he had touched my face and hugged me. It wasn't that it bothered me so much as confused me. Why had Snape sounded so . . . in love when he called me that? And why had he called me that? Some part of me felt as though I should know that name, but I didn't know why.

I sat against the wall I always did, which was besides Snape's office, and I opened my book. It took me a few seconds to figure out what was gone. "Oh, blast," I growled. There were certain things in that letter I did not want some random person reading. Such as, Snape and Lupin looking at me, and it being worthy enough for me to write about to my mum, or the fact she was a Death Eater and thought Sirius a hero. I obviously didn't feel the same, but it just might make someone turn it into Dumbledore, and that would be too much of a hassle. Besides, there were things I didn't want the Headmaster of my school knowing, especially when he had to worry about Sirius Black.

Frantically I searched through the book several times, turning pages back and forth, holding the spine and shaking it upside down, swearing the whole time. There were many places that letter could be. I had woke up, gone to the Great hall, and back down here, and it could have fallen out of my book at any time, and any student could have read it . . . What if Harry Potter read it? It was unlikely and too cliché, but possible, and that was the last thing I wanted him to read. I swore louder at that thought of his green eyes widening in shock, and the thoughts that could pass through his head . . .

Green eyes . . . He had green eyes, like me . . . Didn't my mother mentioned something about Snape being rude because of that? And my red hair?

"What are you doing?" Snape demanded, his voice breaking my concentration.

I looked at him, then blinked a few times. We hadn't talked since the night he saved me from the dementors. "Um . . . I lost a note my mum wrote me."

He looked at the book I held with slight interest. "Where did you get that book?"

I put it against my chest and narrowed my eyes. "Well, it's not really any of your business, but my mother gave it to me. I don't know what it's about, but she went off about how you're a liar and that you're supposed to spy on Dumbledore . . . some other things I wouldn't want people reading." I cleared my throat and shifted on the spot.

Snape's black eyes moved over me for a moment, then the settled on the book. I could tell by the sneer on his face that he really did not want me having it. I put my arms around it tighter. "You were shaking the book for what reason?"

"I put it in the book, because . . . because I thought maybe something important was on it, and I was going to read through it again . . . Anyway, it could be anywhere; anyone could have picked it up. There were things in there, things I don't want people reading."

"I don't suppose you have thought you dropped it somewhere between here and the common room?"

I raised my eyebrow at him. "Of course I have. I've been to the Great Hall and back, obviously I've thought about it. I'm not completely stupid, you know."

For some reason, he looked angrier than I expected him to. "And I do not have to be wasting my time by offering assistance and so you would fare well by keeping your tone pleasant, Miss Kensith," he said icily.

"Well, I don't need you implying I'm stupid."

"Perhaps you should not give me reason to." He smirked in that incredibly annoying way of his.

It seemed that our 'relationship' finally went back to normal. "_Anyway,_" I stared, deciding to go on to our original topic, "I lost my letter, and it has some stuff in it that I don't want someone reading, okay? Excuse me for being in a bad mood, and I don't really want you adding to it."

"In that case, then perhaps you should bother someone else who is more amiable and has far less important tasks than I. Perhaps Lupin has time for incessant whining. I, on the other hand, do not." With that, he opened his door, went inside his office, and slammed it shut.

I stood there and glared at his door. After a few seconds, I narrowed my eyes. I strode over to the door and pounded my fist against it once. "Yeah, maybe I will! Lupin's a better teacher than you, anyway!" All right, so maybe I was being petulant, but I was offended, for some odd reason, at his behaviour. Why had I expected anything to change?

The door opened violently and he stood there, hand still holding it open, so that he stood in the doorframe. "If you feel the need to call me incompetent, please feel free to do so, but I would prefer it being said to me instead of my door."

"Fine," I spat, narrowing my eyes at me. "Lupin's a better teacher than you are. Happy?"

"If you are finished being a petulant child, then I am overly so. And, if he is such a better teacher, then why don't you read outside of his office and bother him?"

"I will." I pursed my lips together and stood up even straighter, giving him a dirty look.

He let out a long, somewhat exhausted sigh. "You are abysmally thick headed," he managed through clenched teeth. Just as I was about to insult him in return, he snarled, "Go talk to Lupin. Now." After that, he shut the door.


	3. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: The Better Teacher

I found myself knocking on Lupin's office door. I wished that I hadn't put my book away, so that I had something to fidget in between my hands instead of just playing with my sleeves. Other than the usual "Good morning, how are you, no, actually, they're more commonly found in Japan" Lupin never really spoke to me. Not that I expected him to. None of my teachers talked to me and I didn't talk to them--it wasn't like I was their friend, and they weren't mine. In fact, the closest relationship I had with any of my teachers--or anyone, really, since I didn't really have friends--was Snape. And look how that went.

The door opened half-way and there stood Lupin, looking tired. He casually ran his hand through his unkempt hair, eyes wide with shock. I shifted uncomfortably, then brushed my hair out of my eyes. I wondered if he thought I looked pretty. Obviously not in a paedophile way, since I was only fourteen, but in a when-she-gets-older-she'll-be-beautiful kind of way.

"Er, hey. Professor Snape told me to come talk to you."

He nodded slowly. "Of course he did. Yes. Come in, Danielle." He opened the door fully and motioned for me to follow him into his office.

As a side note, Professor Snape's room was far more interesting than his. Then again, Lupin had only been here a few months. I sat down in the chair in front of his desk, and I waited patiently for him to sit across from me.

"This talk isn't going to be pleasant," he said in a calm voice. For some reason, even though he said it so calmly, I began to panic.

Deciding I'd rather not show my panic, I pretended to be mildly confused. "Is . . . Is something wrong? Did I do something wrong?" I tried to keep my tone conversational. I thought I succeeded quite well.

"Oh, no, no, of course not. It's me who has." He indicated a piece of parchment on his desk. "Curiosity has always been, um, a fault of mine."

I looked down at the parchment and I realized with a jolt of nausea that it was the letter my mother gave me. I took it off of his desk quickly and held it to my chest so that he couldn't see the words, although it was a bit late for that. "You read my letter? Why did you do that? Didn't you see my name at the top?"

"I did. I'm sorry, Danielle. I saw my name in the letter . . ."

"Okay, first of all, my mother thinks you're slime, not me, and my mother is a massive liar, and she's a muggle-born, and I don't even want to be a Death Eater, ever, so don't think less of me because my mother is like that, all right?" I knew I sounded panicky.

"Danielle--"

"No, listen, I'm not like her, not at all, please, you have to--Please don't go to Dumbledore about this." I glanced down at the letter, then another jolt of nausea hit me. "And this, about Snape spying on Dumbledore, it can't be true, it can't be--I mean, and about him being a Death Eater--" I blinked a few times. Was it any of Lupin's business? No, not really. "I trust Professor Snape entirely. I'd trust him with my life."

He tilted his head curiously at me. "I thought you two didn't get along very well? You're the only student who stands up to him, and he prefers to be in control. You challenge that."

"Well . . ." I shifted in my chair. "It's a power thing, probably. Being a Slytherin, you know. The only one he doesn't like."

"On the contrary, he seems to like you very much."

I couldn't help but laugh. I tried to stop, but it only came out louder. I felt like a complete idiot, laughing out as loud as I did. I quickly covered my mouth and cleared my throat, until I made a half-snigger, half-cough, and looked at him again. My cheeks were burning. He must think I'm a fool, laughing like that out of nowhere. I cleared my throat and looked at his desk.

"I'm being quite serious," he stated.

"No, you can't be. He argues with me all the time, really. And he always glares at me."

"From what I've seen, you usually start it, Danielle."

"What? I do not! He's the git!" I snapped. Then I thought that, perhaps with the first class in my first year as an exception, I usually was the one to get irritated first.

"All right," he murmured, almost like he was afraid to say his opinion. "But he does like you. If any of his other students, or anyone else for that matter, challenged him, well, it wouldn't go very far. Severus has complete control over things, Danielle, especially the classroom. The fact that you can actually carry on an argument with him, rather than be silenced or just get in one sentence, you can actually . . . Have a heated discussion, means something. It's not because you have more control than he does, but because he lets you. Whether or not he realizes this." He smiled at me, quite tenderly. He had a rather nice smile.

Seeing him smile made my stomach feel rather light, but the thought that Snape liked me overrode that and made me feel . . . Well, I didn't really know how it made me feel. I knew he didn't hate me, he had told me that himself. But not hating someone and actually liking them were two different things. I wouldn't go as far as to say I liked Snape, because I didn't, but the thought that he might like me was a bit confusing.

"Do you like him?"

I shook my head. "No," I answered, honestly. "I trust him completely, but I . . . neither like, nor dislike, Professor Snape." I looked down at my letter, then back at Lupin. I remembered suddenly he had read my letter, and I was angry with him again. "I just want you to know that I don't think anything like my mother does, and I know Snape would never . . . hurt Dumbledore, or anyone else for that matter. Well, unless they deserved it."

"Hmm . . . Yes, well, this actually brings us back into what I wanted to talk about. I'm sorry I read your note. Severus had to, ah . . . speak with me about a service I require from him--"

"He told me about that," I interjected, remembering vividly that day. It was hard to forget Snape trashing his room after seeing teh Dark Mark on his pale arm. Lupin looked at me so suddenly it almost frightened me. "He had a bad day. You see, I . . . I, um, saw something . . . And then he said he had to do something for you."

"Did he tell you what?"

I shook my head. "No. But I think he was mostly upset about his mum. And me, probably, because I said some really . . . mean things. I called him Snivellus. Mum told me you guys used to call him that."

"I did not. I guess I was just as bad as James and Sirius, though, since I never stopped them . . ."

I frowned. "James . . . I know that name . . ."

"James Potter," he offered. I nodded, understanding. Harry's dad. "He asked me what I was reading and I told him a few things. He . . . became cross. He had every right to. He told me it wasn't my business and that you were nothing like your mother and for me to disregard it entirely. He also said he was going to tell you exactly what happened and that I deserved anything you said to me."

"Yeah, well, you shouldn't be reading people's personal things. I can't believe you did that. That was just . . . rude. I don't know how I'm going to trust you now. God, this was personal."

He nodded slowly. "I understand. It is odd, though, that you would trust Severus, but not me."

"But, what my mother says here, that's not what I think about you. I actually like you. Not at the moment, I don't, but usually . . ." I looked downward. I did have a slight crush on him. I didn't want to embarrass myself further. At the moment, though, I found that I didn't really like him at all.

"I actually needed to talk to you about something the letter. I know you don't think as your mother does, Severus informed me of that quite . . . fervently . . ."

Snape stuck up for me? Odd. He usually told me exactly how like my mother I was. Then again, it was odd of him to go to tell me that Lupin had my letter. I wondered why he'd dropped hints rather than flat-out tell me . . .

"Yeah, well, he's right. I hate my mum. She killed my dad. And right now, I'm not in the mood to even talk to you about anything, so I think I'm just gonna go." I stood up from the chair and went to leave.

"Please, wait."

I shook my head. "No. I'm sorry. But I'm too frustrated to even look at you right now." I had momentarily forgotten that he had practically betrayed my trust, but not that I had been reminded, it angered me to the point just looking at him made me want to punch him in the face. "Nobody but Snape knew about . . . about anything, and not because he went around snooping in my stuff! There's a reason why I don't tell people about my mother! I don't have any friends, Lupin, not one, but if any of this got around . . . Well, I would be teased! Bullied! I may not have friends, but I am not bullied, and I will not tolerate that again, not after primary school! And if anyone wanted to be my friend after this, well, I wouldn't want to be friends anyway! Not with someone like that! And to think that _you . . ._ and I actually liked you!" I found that both of my hands were clenched into fists, crinkling up the parchment.

For some odd reason, the first person I wanted to talk to was Snape, probably because I knew he didn't like Lupin and would be more than willing to insult him. And he was the only one who knew about the letter anyway. And who else would I talk to? Friends? Hah!

"It's about why I look at you," he revealed urgently. I stared at him for a few seconds, then I quickly sat down. "You remind me of someone, someone I knew a long time ago. Someone we all knew, actually. It's a bit . . . unnerving. I'm sorry it bothered you so much you wrote your mum about it. Me looking at you that way, and Severus . . . well . . . I really shouldn't. It's his business to tell, not mine."

"Because you always care about other people's business, huh?" I snapped. Since I had gotten used to Snape, I expected him to get angry, but he didn't. Instead, he just nodded a few times, though barely. What a pushover. Why didn't he say something back? Though I guess it was pleasant he didn't want to start an argument with me, it was still strange. Maybe I wanted him to yell back. Maybe I wanted to have a yelling match. I felt like having one. He invaded my privacy. I think I had a right to one.

"I'm very sorry, Danielle. You remind me of her. Mostly in looks, but there is a spark . . . Still, I should not have read your letter."

"You're right about that."

"Yes . . . Can I ask one thing, though?" I just glared at him. "Please don't write about this to your mum. And please don't tell anyone else I read it, either. I don't . . . want to be rejected, see. Severus already thinks I'm helping Sirius into the castle, and now he knows about this. I don't want the rest of the school thinking it too."

"Fine, but only if you promise to keep your mouth shut. If anyone finds out about anything in this letter, then I'll make sure everyone agrees with Snape in regards to you." He looked rather hurt. I told myself I didn't care.

I stood up again and glared at him, then I left his office, anger thrumming through me.

I was so angry with Lupin. To think that I had liked him! Well, all right, so I still did, otherwise it wouldn't have bugged me so much that he read my letter. After all, that was a natural response, wasn't it? I would have read a letter if name were in it. Still, though, I had every right to be upset. Furious. He had invaded my privacy, simply because he saw his name and because I reminded him of someone he used to know.

I stormed throughout the castle, thinking about how calm he had been, and how much of a pushover he had been. I wanted to yell, dammit! Fury was pulsing through me, and I needed it to get out of my chest. I couldn't very likely go an tell someone about how I felt, could I? No, of course not, not only would no one really want to hear it, but I didn't want to tell anyone unless they already knew.

So, resolved, I stormed over to Professor Snape's office, and I knocked sharply, and several times, on his door. He opened the door pursed his lips. For a moment, because of the look he was giving me, I thought he was going to slam the door in my face, but then he opened it fully. "Come in, Miss Kensith."

I stormed in and stood in front of his desk, lips pursed so tight it was starting to hurt my mouth a little bit, and I found that I was tapping my fingers along his desk rather rapidly. I only got this frustrated when I was in his class, and I would always drum my fingers sharply against my own desk and glare at him when he'd either won the argument or . . . Well, I never really won an argument with him, did I? I always got a detention. Well, other than my mother, Snape really was the only who ever got me this frustrated. And now Lupin had angered me this much, and I liked him. Thing was, I didn't know if I was more frustrated because I didn't get the chance to argue with him, or if it was because he betrayed my trust, or if it was because I still somewhat liked him.

"You may sit."

I did so. It occurred to me that I hadn't waited for permission to sit in Lupin's office, but I had for Snape. Strange. He sat across from me, and eyed my posture. I kept drumming my fingers on his desk and I crumpled the letter further. The corner of his mouth lifted. Apparently, me being angry amused him.

"You've misplaced your Occlumency book, I see."

"I haven't misplaced it. I put it where it goes."

He nodded.

"Lupin read my letter. Then he told you what was in it. He told me this." I scoffed and shook my head. "And you . . . You came down here to tell me this, didn't you? But you dropped hints, and I was too stupid to get them, and I bit your head off for no reason." I almost said an apology, but then I quickly caught myself and stopped it from falling out of my mouth. "What did he tell you?"

"He only mentioned that you realized we both . . . look at you strangely, and that he knew all along how very much like your mother you were."

"He told me you stuck up for me."

He shifted in his seat. "That may have happened, yes."

Despite the fact I was still angry, I did feel a little better at that. The clicking of the tips of my fingers and fingernails on his desk was staring to slow down. "Yeah, well . . . Thanks." He nodded once, and I continued drumming my fingers.

"You know, he has some nerve!" I shouted auddenly, caught up in my anger again. "He didn't even try to look for me or give it back to me! And he just told you, without even thinking, when you had to talk to him about . . . About whatever! He could've told anyone! And he didn't even mention anything bad my mum said about you, about you being a Death Eater and spying on Dumbledore, no, he didn't even show enough courtesy to mention anything that would be important for you to know! And he's supposed to be the good one? Hah!"

"I beg your pardon?"

I tossed the crumpled parchment onto his desk. "Read it. My mum threw in your Dark Mark, and said you need Occlumency or whatever to spy on Dumbledore and you didn't deserve the job! What rubbish! Seriously, I know you have the Dark Mark, but I trust you, and she's just jealous! And then she just goes on about it being your fault you stare at me and I can't believe Lupin was going to keep that!" The drumming of my fingers hastened and became louder.

I kept quiet and he read through my letter, one finger tracing his bottom lip. After a moment, he placed it back on the desk.

"See?" I blurted, not even waiting for him to respond, just watching him look at me curiously. "She's just trying to get me away form you so I don't find out she's muggle born and a liar and that Sirius and them couldn't even stand her! And like I care about Sirius anyway! He betrayed James and--and . . . his wife!" I shouted, feeling a little bad about not knowing her name. Snape showed every sign of interrupting me angrily, btu I continued talking. "And Lupin, well, he can just sod off, can't he? Going off about me looking like someone, like that gives him an excuse, and so what if I look like some girl, you respect me, why can't he?"

He reached over and grabbed my hand, the one that was tapping his desk violently. "Desist," he ordered, holding my hand tightly. I hadn't realized how loud it was until then.

I felt strangely warm in my stomach, and my anger subsided slightly. Our eyes met and I felt my heart skip a beat. My hand was suddenly so hot that it was uncomfortable, yet at the same time I didn't want to pull away. He looked away form my eyes and focused on my hand, and I realized my heart was now beating twice as fast, and the heat from my palm was shooting up my arm. His grip on my hand loosened and my breath hitched.

He pulled his hand away and other than the fact he looked dazed momentarily, he appeared quite normal. "The Dark Lord did intend for me to spy upon Dumbledore," he informed.

"What?" I demanded, sitting on the edge of my seat. I felt sick.

"Your mother, it appears, speaks some truth."

I felt weak and I leaned against the back of my chair, the anger melting into depression and betrayal. "Oh. Well . . . I told Lupin it was a lie, and that I trusted you entirely, so if you don't want him knowing, I guess you have that in your favour." My eyes started burning as I thought about what he had said. I felt like I had been smacked in the face. After I had just stuck up for him, I found out Mother was right.

He was quiet. Unnaturally quiet. I looked at him, my vision blurry and my eyes hot. When a tear slid down my cheek, I cleared my throat and brushed it away.

"Why . . .Why would you do such a foolish as to trust me?" He was speaking in a whisper, his low voice barely audible.

I shrugged and shook my head. "You have a Patronus. And you took care of me, that day."

He was staring at me. I couldn't tell his expression because my vision was blurry, but I knew that he was. I was starting to get angry again.

"But I was wrong, wasn't I? I just made a bloody fool of myself, standing up for you, and I don't even really like you. I front of that pushover, too, who couldn't even raise his voice! Maybe I wanted to yell, huh? Well, I guess you can do that for me enough, can't you? Start yelling, then!"

"I am loyal to the Headmaster, Miss Kensith. He asked me to spy on the Dark Lord, before he fell. I accepted."

I wiped away the tears form my cheeks. Well, now I felt stupid. Incredibly stupid. After a few moments of me regretting spouting off all that towards him, I cleared my throat. "Oh. Why?" He remained silent. "This is another question you'll just avoid, isn't it?" He merely nodded. "Well, at least Lupin told me why you look at me in that way you do. Because I remind you of someone."

"Yes."

I smiled smugly. "Well, Lupin isn't completely worthless then." The insult came without warning, and I immediately felt guilty. I slapped my hand to my mouth.

"I don't mind. As far as I know, you don't regret insulting me, and_ I_ do not invade your privacy."

"Yeah, well, I don't have a crush on you, do I?" I snapped, narrowing my eyes.

He scoffed and sneered at the same time. "I strongly disapprove."

"Oh, dammit," I grumbled, then held my head in my hands. After a moment I looked up. "You know, I know nothing will happen, and even if anything did, I wouldn't need your blessings anyway. Besides, I couldn't be with someone who is so . . . Timid. God, he wouldn't even yell back. Maybe I wanted to get into an argument."

"It shows control over emotions not to yell at the slightest irritation. I will give Lupin that small compliment, though I will agree he is spineless. However, perhaps not everyone in this school enjoys to throw fits as you do." He raised an eyebrow at me.

"I guess . . . I kinda do have a temper problem . . . And I did tell him I was gonna go around saying he was helping Sirius Black if anyone else found out about this letter . . ."

"You are a most troublesome student, however, I do believe he is doing so. I do not condone, in any way, spreading that rumour, but if you so choose, I cannot stop you." It was apparent by his tone that he did condone it. "I would suggest, however, learning to control that temper of yours. It does not suit you well to interrupt my classes with your impertinent attitude."

I remembered what Lupin said about him liking me simply because I actually got to yell in his class. I smiled, and it confused him obviously.

"Come on, he needs to get mad sometime! Did he even get mad at you when you insinuated that he was letting Sirius Black into the castle? No. And he betrayed them all, and even brought about James and . . . Harry's parents' death."

"Her name is Lily," he snapped, apparently angrier that I hadn't known her name than he was that I had a crush on Lupin.

Lily.

Good God, Harry's mum was named Lily.

"Lily," I repeated, remembering the love that he had said it with.

"Do not forget it."

"I won't." I stared at him, knowing that he had loved her. Knowing why he seemed to hate Lupin even more than Harry. He thought Lupin was helping that man who was vital in killing his beloved. "Thank you for telling me. Mother never did."

"Your mother does not deserve to speak that name."

"I will make sure she never does, sir. I swear it."

I meant it. I meant it entirely. And just by the expression on his face, he knew I meant it, too


	4. Chapter 6 and 7

Chapter 6: What Everyone Deserves

Detention, again. Only this time, Snape didn't assign it. McGonagall had. She didn't approve of my night time wanderings. People already knew that Snape and I didn't really get along (although, actually, he hadn't been mean to me since Christmas, but I suppose it didn't mean much because it was only the ninth of January, but people didn't really notice we hadn't fought) and so she had assigned me with him. At least, I was willing to bet she assigned me with him because she thought we didn't like each other, although she claimed it was because everyone else was busy. No doubt she did it to annoy him as well

"First, you will clean cauldrons, and then you will correct this stack of essays. It should take up an ample amount of time." He waved his hand as if dismissing me, and he leant over the cauldron he was brewing in.

Cleaning cauldrons was a boring and somewhat lengthy process, though I was sure it seemed longer than it actually was. He had brought out some cleaning potions, ones I didn't recognize from home and had assumed he made them himself, and I scrubbed the insides out with the first potion, which loosened the residue, then I used the second which I think was the equivalent to soap, then a third one that was a disinfectant, than I sprayed it down with water. I liked how he took so much care of his things.

After I finished doing that, which took a long time (or at least it had seemed to be a long time) I sat at his desk and started correcting the essays. To be honest, I liked having detention with Snape more than I had before. Filch always made me clean bedpans, Hagrid always made me go do something with him in the forest which scared the hell out of me, and McGonagall would always make me write lines. I hated writing lines. At least with Snape, I felt like I was doing something productive. Something that helped him. Almost like . . . Volunteer work.

But I still didn't like detention.

Under normal circumstances, I would have noticed Snape looking at me while I scribbled away on the parchment, or his determination to ignore me entirely. This time, though, I found myself looking at him. He was completely focused on the potion. His black eyes never wavered from what he was doing. His measurements were precise. Normally, when I measured ingredients, I would put it in and tap it, and if there was a little extra then whatever. An eight was better than nothing for extra ingredients. Although I had been noticing he'd given me nines when he usually would have given me eights. But Snape, he took his scalpel and scraped off excess. Everything was perfection.

When he stared at me, seeing me as Lily like I knew he did, he stared at me with the same intensity he stared at the cauldron, only with that emotion I still couldn't decipher. I knew he loved Lily, but the emotion in his eyes . . . was something else. Something more. But the look in his eyes now was simple. He enjoyed brewing, even though he always wanted to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. I could easily place that.

When Snape tilted his head to the side, face of pure concentration, his black, lank hair shifted slightly, partially covering his face. He did a small toss of his head, so that he could see what he was doing, and he tapped his bottom lip with his index finger, obviously thinking about something. When he did that, there was an odd feeling in my stomach region, one I didn't recognize. Well, I did recognize it, but I'd only had it around Lupin, only around him it was far more pronounced.

He poured something into the potion. "I don't hear the scratching of your quill, Miss Kensith. It was under the impression this was a detention?" he said, whilst keeping his eyes on his potion.

I shook my head. I must've been staring at him for at least five minutes. "Sorry . . ." I began correcting essays again, not sure why I'd been staring at him. Or what I'd been staring at. "I was lost in thought," I added quietly, still confused.

"Must have been unfamiliar territory," he replied and I saw the smallest trace of a smile on his mouth.

My natural instinct was to get offended and insult him back, but then I realized he wasn't bullying me. It was almost friendly. How many other times had he done this and I'd gotten the wrong impression. I shrugged. "Thankfully you were there to help me through it," I muttered.

"Are you suggesting you were thinking of me?"

Had I been? I guess so. I wasn't really thinking of anything, but I had been staring at him.

"Maybe," I muttered, only because I couldn't think of anything else to say. After a second of me feeling embarrassed, I asked, "What are you making?"

"A Lycanthropy potion."

He didn't elaborate.

"Oh . . . I hear it's really hard to make. When do the students get to brew it?"

"Seventh year."

"Cool. So does the ministry give out schedules on what you're supposed to teach?" I asked, not really knowing why I wanted to talk to him. I continued correcting while I did though.

He was stirring his potion lazily, not looking at me. "To some extent, yes, however I find they are too easy on the students, and I have advanced the curriculum slightly."

I nodded. "Hmm," I hummed. I know I should've stopped talking then, but I couldn't help it. For some reason I was a chatterbox. "Today was a long day. What about you?"

"I suppose so. As far as days go, it wasn't . . . horrid."

I nodded, then rearranged my cloak so it was on me better. It was chilly in the dungeons normally, but in January? It was freezing. Thank God I had a thick cloak to keep me warm. "I didn't say it was bad, I just said it was long. I don't mind having detention with you, really. Still, it's a bit weird for McGonagall to assign the detention the next night. I mean, it usually takes a week. I was so surprised to get the date only six hours after she caught me sneaking around. Eight o' clock, in front of everyone, too."

"I am sure McGonagall did it under the Headmaster's instructions. He seems to meddle frequently."

I frowned. What was he talking about? "Meddle?"

"I had no intentions of being with anyone today, and I am sure he saw this opportunity as golden."

I didn't know what he was talking about, but I shrugged. "Well, he isn't the only meddlesome one. Remember Christmas? You were dropping hints rather than flat-out telling me to talk to Lupin."

He didn't say anything for a few seconds. "You, being a Slytherin, surely understand that manipulative tool. There is little art in doing otherwise."

"Normally you are rather blunt."

"Perhaps I did not want you to know I wished for you to go," he murmured quietly.

I chuckled airily and shook my head, continuing to scratch my quill on the parchment. "Why? Because then I'd know you actually like me?" I joked.

His silence made me feel strange.

There was a short silence in which I realized that he would be embarrassed or whatever the Snape equivalent of embarrassed was to show he actually liked me.

"When is your birthday?" he inquired.

"August 17th, why?"

He didn't respond. Why would he ask that? He seemed to be waiting for something, but I didn't know why. I was busy trying to think of a reason why he would be interested in my birthday, and why he wouldn't tell me why he wanted to know. Maybe it had something to do with Lily.

"Yeah, I'll be fifteen then."

He sneered. Although his hair partially obstructed my view of his face, I could still see that familiar nasty lift of his upper lip. "Utterly fascinating," he growled.

"Well _excuse_ me, you asked my birthday," I snapped. His scowl became more pronounced. He didn't say anything in return. I took in a slow breath, unable to think of anything else to say unless he said something first.

After a moment of me wondering why this somewhat civil conversation had gone bad, I decided that I preferred civility better. "So . . . When's your birthday?" I asked.

There was a look of triumph on his face. Suppressed triumph, like he didn't want me to know, but it was still there. He wanted me to ask his birthday. "January ninth," he answered quietly.

"Today?"

"Have you forgotten how to read a calendar? Yes, today."

I blinked a few times. "Oh . . . Well, happy birthday. What have you gotten?"

"You, apparently. The headmaster always has a way of giving me unconventional items. Last year, he gave me socks." He was measuring ingredients again. "Nothing else."

I felt bad. Although my mother loved the idea of what she thought I was and not me, of what she wanted me to be, she had still always given me a present. They were usually books or new robes, but it was still something. And what had he gotten? Looking over a detention.

Since he was busy doing a potion, he didn't notice me pulling out a spare bit of parchment. Earlier, he had mentioned he hadn't heard my quill scratching and that was how he knew I wasn't correcting. So I kept glancing up at him and I started drawing him, staring into his potion so intently. It wasn't very hard, since his hair shielded most of his face, but I managed to draw his hook, long nose protruding slightly through his black, greasy hair, and the interesting curve of his thin lip. I didn't get his eyes, though, since they were shadowed over. I paid extra close attention to his hands, shadowing them in perfectly, making sure I got his elegant fingers perfect. Elegant. A word I don't remember using in regards to Snape, but it fit.

Something good that came from not having friends meant free time to learn how to draw. I did that. Creative abilities come from solitude, if not much else, like learning tact. So the picture I drew of his was actually well-done .something I was really good at was shadowing. When I finished that, I sat it aside and finished the rest of the essays I needed to correct, ink splashed up on my fingertips and knuckles, the red looking similar to blood. "I'm finished, I stated, pushing over the corrected essays."

"I took you longer than I expected," he informed.

I went to grab my portrait and I groaned. The picture I had done of him was in blood red. Dammit.

I pulled out my wand and pointed it to the paper, whispering a small spell that changed the colour of the ink to black.

"What are you doing, using your wand?" he asked, eyes still on his potion.

I glanced once more at the portrait of Snape, feeling rather proud of myself. I suppose a better person would've been humble, but I thought it was damn good. Sometimes I did get a little arrogant.

Right now he was letting it boil, staring at the slightly bubbling potion. "Happy birthday," I said, handing him the portrait with a smile on my face.

He looked away from the cauldron and took it slowly from my hand. He stared at it fixedly, the corners of his mouth lifting, but I could tell from the tightness of his lips he was trying not to smile. No doubt he had planned this so I would give him something, why else would he have hinted at it, but I didn't care.

"Why did you give me this?" he asked.

"Because everyone deserves a present on his birthday. Something other than me, anyway."

He set it aside, very carefully I noticed. He regarded me intensely, this time with a different emotion. He wasn't looking at me with that odd combination of emotions, but just one. One I didn't recognize, but one that I think was directed at me, not Lily.

"You are free to go, Miss Kensith."

I nodded once, then left, smiling for some reason.

Chapter 7: Goodbyes

It was the last class of the day, Potions, and I was putting my things away. The end of the school year was approaching, no matter how fast it had seemed to go by. Rumours of Sirius Black escaping from the authorities yet again were rampant. I didn't pay them any mind. As far as I was concerned, I was tired of hearing his name. I'd heard it my whole life from my mother, and this whole year I'd heard it from everyone around me. To be honest, I really wasn't interested in him unless he was staring me down with a wand, or he was safely back in Azkaban.

I put my bag on my shoulder and focused on Snape, at the front of the class. This was the last time I'd see him until next year. For some reason, I felt like I should say something, even thought I never had before. Besides, it wasn't like I wasn't ever going to see him again, was it?

But he had been, well, I wouldn't call it _nice, _but he was definitely not teasing me as much. Not in a mean way, at leas. He had teased me, but in more of a . . . well, I wouldn't say friendly, either. All I know was when he caught me sneaking around after dark, he simply said, "My, my, my, seems Miss Kensith has a case of insomnia. Whatever shall I do? Perhaps . . . Assign a detention? Take points?"

"Or . . . Just send me back to bed and pretend you took points?" I remember replying.

"Seems fair enough. Had you been Harry Potter, and I Lupin or McGonagall, I would have mostly likely done the same. Off you go." After that, he walked me to the common room in silence, probably to make sure I actually went, and we said goodnight at the portrait.

Thing was, I didn't know if I would have bit his head off if he had said that exact thing a few months earlier. I wondered mildly if perhaps he had only been teasing me, not bullying me, all those time before. No, definitely not, he had changed, not me.

I slowly walked to his desk, casually looking around the classroom to prevent myself from looking at him. When I was finally standing in front of his desk, I stood there quietly, having a hard time saying goodbye to him for some reason. Why did I want to do this again? My neck seemed to be warmer than it should've been in the dungeons, and my cheeks, too.

After a few seconds, he looked up from what he was grading and focused on me. He waited a few seconds. "Is there something you needed, Miss Kensith?" He sounded mildly curious--either that, or annoyed. I hoped it was the former.

"Er, nothing really. I just . . ." I trailed off nervously. He raised an eyebrow at me. "Have a good summer, sir," I mumbled awkwardly. Why did I want to say that again.

The corner of his mouth lifted, then he turned his attention towards grading the paper again. I think he didn't want e to see how his mouth lifted like that. "I shall try. Although it may be hindered because I lost my Merlin, Third possibly First Class, thanks to Potter. Seems that I'm doomed to have anything good in my life destroyed by that boy or his father."

"Oh . . . How did that happen?"

"I caught Sirius Black and then he escaped, no doubt because of that Potter boy."

My mouth almost dropped. It didn't, though, because that would've looked silly. "You . . . You caught him? That's cool. Well, I mean, it was cool, 'til he escaped, but that's . . . well, sorry he got away, sir. Anyway, try to have a good summer."

"You as well, Miss Kensith," he said, in an offhand way, continuing to mark his assignment. I turned around to leave. "Lupin was aware of my past, Miss Kensith. He knows I have the Dark Mark." That stopped me.

I turned back around and stood in front of his desk again. "Oh . . . So, is that a problem?"

He turned his attention to me again. "No, it isn't. It's on the ministry records, and if anyone wanted to find out, it wouldn't take much research to find that I have been a Death Eater." I honestly didn't know why he was telling me this. He seemed to know this.

I waited for an explanation. When I realized it wasn't coming, I shifted my weight onto my other foot and made the bag slung over my shoulder more comfortable. "So . . . You're telling me why?"

"You remember, on Christmas, Lupin read the letter your mother gave you?" I nodded a few times. "Recently, we were discussing you--your exam grades--and the subject of what happened on Christmas came up. You did not reveal to him I had the Dark Mark and he is under the impression you have no idea."

"Well it isn't any of his business, so just acted like I hadn't seen it."

"You also told him you trust me with your life."

This was getting even more awkward. I nodded slowly, feeling the temperature rise significantly. "Well, I do. I trust you. I told you that night, remember? You asked me why I would do something so foolish."

He nodded curtly. "It was appreciated, nonetheless."

I nodded once, feeling less embarrassed now. "Well, I meant it." He returned to grading his papers. "I'll see you next September." I turned around and started to the door quickly.

I was halfway to the door when he said, "Lupin's quitting. I thought you would like to know."

I stopped for a second. I turned turn around to see him, because I was starting to feel ashamed. Was it because of me? Because he read my letter? He seemed ridiculous, but the thought entered my head anyway. "Er . . . Thanks for telling me . . ."

"Of course."

I waited to see if he had anything else to say, then I quickly left his classroom.

Once again, I knocked on Lupin's door. This time, though, I felt like I was in the wrong rather than him. When he opened the door, I noticed that his eyes were dull and he had slight frown lines around his mouth. "Good afternoon, Danielle."

"I heard . . . er . . . that you were quitting."

"You heard correctly."

My heart plummeted. "Oh . . . It wasn't because of me, was it?"

"What? Of course not!" He laughed half-heartedly and shook his head slightly. His dull eyes brightened. "Would you like to have something to drink?"

Having a drink with Lupin, the teacher who I thought was sweet and smart and somewhat attractive? Hmm, gee, let me think on that. "Yeah, sure," I said, trying to sound nonchalant, but I think I sounded a bit too eager.

He let me into his office and I sat in front of his desk. He was bustling around and I tried not to watch him, but I couldn't help it. He moved like someone who was really tired, or someone who got sick a lot. He did miss classes, at least once a month. When I thought he was going to turn around and see me looking at him, I quickly looked away.

He sat in front of me and handed me a goblet of pumpkin juice. I waited for him to take a sip first before I took a drink. "Why would you think me quitting was your fault?"

I shrugged. "I don't know . . . I thought maybe, 'cause of the letter . . . And I did say I would tell everyone you let Sirius Black in."

He shook his head. "Oh, no, of course not. Truth is, I never stay anywhere for too long. I thought I should quit before parents demanded I leave."

I drank my pumpkin juice quietly, the furrowed my eyebrows in thought. "Because . . . You're . . ." I felt almost stupid saying it. "Gay?" I finished, unable to say what I really thought.

"Hmm?" he hummed, almost like he hadn't heard me correctly. I tried to keep my face straight. "What? Oh, no, I'm not--Do I come off as gay?" He sounded extremely worried. "Do people care if professors are gay?"

I burst out laughing, unable to keep it in any longer. Of course he wasn't gay. "I was just kidding." I took another drink. "No, you don't seem gay. Not to me. No, but . . . Is it . . . are you a werewolf?"

He nodded solemnly. "Yes. Did Severus tell you?"

"No, but he set an essay, once, when he substituted. I wondered about it, but I didn't really know. I suspected, but . . . Well, it wasn't really anything I thought so important I had to think about it a lot." Mostly I thought about his eyes and how he called me by my first name.

"I wish people thought as you did. Most think I'm dangerous. If I take the potion Severus makes me, then I'm fine. Still . . . People don't see it that way."

I nodded and I felt some tears in my eyes. "That's bullocks. You're a good teacher, and that's all that should matter. I mean, you really care about us, and you have cool lessons. I mean, can't you fight this? Stand up for yourself? You should do that. Really."

"No. I don't have much money and I don't want to go through the hassle if I know I'll be rejected."

"Well, maybe you won't be rejected. This isn't fair. Maybe you'll get other people to realize it isn't fair and start some sort of revolution."

He didn't say anything, but I knew he wasn't going to do what I'd told him. There was a long silence after that, and extremely awkward one, where both of just drank some pumpkin juice. I had imagined this scenario over a thousand times in my head, and it always went completely different. It didn't ever involve long awkward silences. For some reason I couldn't think of anything to say to him.

When I finished my pumpkin juice, I stood. "Bye, Professor," I said. He nodded as a parting, then I left quietly.

I suppose I was lost in thought. How stupid was it that people didn't like werewolves? It wasn't like they chose to mutilate people, and if they were locked up during that time of the month, what was the big deal? And why would he just sit there and not stand up for himself? Surely Dumbledore didn't care that he was a werewolf?

I suppose I was just wandering the castle, since I had nowhere in particular I wanted to go. It wasn't long before I saw Harry Potter walking towards me. Since I was not close with Harry, I did not say anything. But I did smile at him and nod.

He nodded back, looking at me just as Snape and Lupin did. Still, Snape managed to make it different, because of the intensity of his stare. We walked by each other. A few seconds after he passed me, I heard fast footsteps, and he was standing in front of me again. Apaprently he changed his mind about walking past. He had eyes extremely similar to mine. Almost identical. Not quite, but almost.

"Er, hey," he muttered, his narrow, small frame a bit smaller than mine. Were third years really that much smaller than fourth years? Or had he not hit his growth spurt yet? His friend, Ron I think, was taller than some of the boys in my year, so maybe it was just Harry.

Not really understanding why he had run back to stand in front of me, I smiled politely at him. Hey, if The-Boy-Who-Lived wanted to talk to me, then all right. "Hey. Did you--uh--want something?" I remembered, near the beginning of the year, he had stared at me with recognition. At least this time I knew why he was staring at me. I looked like Lily. I had never seen a picture of her, but I knew I did. Maybe it was the eyes--Harry had the same ones. Obviously Harry would have seen a picture of his mum.

"Nothing, really. Just . . . I see you sometimes. Um, that sounds stupid."

"No, not really. I see you too." He rolled his eyes so briefly I almost didn't catch it. "Well, you do kinda stand out. Harry Potter, you know." He let out a short chuckle. "So . . . You going somewhere? Just wanting to tell me you look at me?"

"I was actually going to visit Lupin. Talk to him, you know."

"About Sirius Black?" When he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, I shrugged. "I heard they were friends, back in the day. I heard you were involved with Sirius escaping, too."

"Right . . . Well . . . Actually, I just wanted to know your name."

"Danielle Kensith."

"Oh . . . I don't see you in the common room really, so . . . I wouldn't know . . ."

"I'm in Slytherin," I admitted. For the first time in my life, that word had a bad taste in my mouth. At that moment, I wanted to be in any house except Slytherin.

He blinked once. "Oh." He nodded once at me. "Well, I should be going now . . ."

"I'll see you around, Harry."

He walked past me first, while I stayed still for a second before deciding wandering the school wasn't what I wanted to do anymore. The Slytherin common room seemed lie ka good place to go, and then maybe I'd grab my still unread Occlumency and Legilimency book, sit besides Snape's office, and finally learn what it was. Whatever I did, I had to get the bad thoughts out of my mind. I shouldn't hate being in Slytherin, and I never had before.


	5. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Friends

Summer had always been my favourite time of year, if not only for the lack of classes and school. My mother let me do whatever I wanted, mainly because I was older and she wasn't afraid I was going to blab about magic to the neighbours. When I was little, I wasn't allowed to go outside unless I was going to primary school, which I only went to because my father had it in his will. It actually scared me how he had a will, and he was only twenty-two.

Now, though, I was damn bored.

The whole summer I'd been basically wandering around town or watching a TV I had hidden in my room. I was forbidden to have anything muggle, which of course made me want it even more. I loved muggle television and muggle movies. I even had to hide muggle books.

It was my birthday, August 17th, and I was sitting in my room, holding a pair of brand new robes my mother had given me. How typical. Oh well ,though, at least she got me something. Sometimes I felt guilty, because she thought I was like her and that was the only reason she loved me. I don't her several times I wasn't into the whole Death Eater thing, and she yelled at me and called me a traitor, then acted like nothing happened and pretended I was interested. She was such a liar sometimes I think she even lied to herself and believed it.

I glanced up at the calendar and counted the days until September 1st. When I realized it was coming nearer, I actually felt excited. How much of a loser was I? I didn't know why I felt so excited to return this year. I hadn't ever wanted to go before, preferring my log holidays of nothing to do, no responsibility, and just drawing and walking around in the moonlight and the simple muggle pleasures I hid from my mother. I had always loved feeling the cool night air on my face after a long argument with my mother, which could last hours, and I loved getting caught up in people in movies and TV, watching reruns of shows I missed while in school, and reading something that didn't have real knowledge of the magic I knew. But now, well, I just couldn't wait to go back to school. I have no idea why, since I didn't even have friends, and Lupin was gone so no crushes to see.

But for some reason I craved to talk to Snape. It was weird. We rarely even spoke to each other, except for the banter in class (since when had I called it banter instead of arguments?) and the small head nod or brief conversation in the hallway.

I glanced over at the Occlumency and Legilimency book in the corner which I had thumbed through and tried reading, but I couldn't get through it. It was like reading an instructional manual and I just could not get into it at all. I really tried, but it seemed complicated and if I really cared about it, I'd ask someone to teach me, not read it from a book.

I tried on my new robes, black and smug around my cleavage area, and looked at myself in the mirror. Just as I was thinking of roaming around town, although it was midday, something flew through my window. I looked at it. It was an owl, a black owl. I knew nothing about owls and so I couldn't say what type it was, but it was beautiful and obviously well cared for. The dark feathers shone.

I went over to it and patted its head gently. It lifted out its talons, which held a rolled up piece of parchment wrapped in a black ribbon. I took it from him and he took off before I could give him a treat or anything. I didn't know what it could have been, since I had already received my school list. Shrugging, I unrolled it and almost gasped when I saw what it was.

It was a picture of me. If I thought I was a good drawer, than this was spectacular. It had been coloured, as well, so my green eyes were just as vivid as my red hair, and my fair skin was shadowed in all the right places. In the picture, I was leaning on a desk, facing the artist so that the desk covered everything below my belly, and I was leaning so much my hair flopped onto the wood. My eyes were narrowed and my mouth was in a slight scowl. I looked frustrated, but beautiful at the same time. Prettier than I thought I actually was, but it was unmistakeable. There was a title at the top, _Yelling At Me._

When I had unrolled it, a small bit of torn parchment had fallen out with a scrawled note on it. I hadn't cared too much at the time, and after I stared at the amazing picture for a few minutes, I finally tore my astonished gaze from it and picked up the note.

_Miss Danielle Kensith--_

_May your birthday be pleasant. _

_I hope that everything is well, and I hope you are content._

_I insist you never ask why._

_--Professor Severus Snape._

The elation that filled me was unexpected and sudden. My smile took up my whole face and I felt like nothing in the world could stop me from being happy. Snape had sent me a gift! And it was a perfect picture of me! I had given him a picture for his birthday, and he was responding!

Even though a few moments ago I had thought September 1st was close, I now thought it was too far away, and I wanted to be there, at the very moment. I searched my room for my notebook in which I kept anything I thought was important, and I hurried put it in there, making sure to do it extra carefully. This was the first present I had ever received from someone who wasn't my mother.

It was odd to think that Snape had sent me something, but it was pleasant.

I thought about Snape the rest of the night, and how long he must've taken him to draw me, and how his hands must have looked sliding across the parchment, that look of complete concentration on his face, black eyes intense . . . I thought about how he had drawn me so well, leaning and looking frustrated on that desk (I think it was when I asked him why he was standing behind me) and he hadn't even been looking at me . . .

Thinking of him with those intense eyes made me think of how he always stared at me, because I was similar to Lily Potter. When that thought entered my head, I suddenly felt sad and let down.

I didn't feel so happy after that.

By the time I'd even gotten in my compartment I had heard about what happened at the Quidditch mat at least one million time from mum, and at least a hundred by everyone around me at King's Cross. Whether it was from fear or excitement, or just as boring news to them ,I didn't know, but I was scared. Completely scared. The Dark Mark was not something I took very lightly. In fact, I was scared just thinking about it that I would get nauseous and light headed and I'd have to leave the room if I was with my mother.

Just thinking about You-Know-Who returning made me think of everything bad that could happen, all of the deaths, all of the torture, and how the world would be if he won this time . . . Or how it would feel to have him taunt me and torture me, then point his wand at my face and say the killing curse, and how I would feel seeing that green spell shoot at me and then I wondered what happened after death, if anything at all. The paralyzing fear would settle in, something that made my heart race and my throat clog.

I quickly shook my head, trying to get those thoughts out of my head, but it wasn't working. Mother had described what You-Know-Who had looked like. She made him sound . . . Well, elegant, artsy, what the hell ever, but I only saw him as a marble white, hardly human, being of such evil that cold chills went up my spine just thinking about the flat picture in my head of him.

The door to my compartment opened and five people walked in and sat without even asking permission. They were Pansy Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle (who I practically lumped into one person, since they were always together, Blaise Zabini, and Draco Malfoy.

"Uh, excuse me, did you ask?" I snapped.

"As if we need permission from you," Pansy giggled, looking at her beloved Draco for approval of her insult.

Draco glared at her briefly, then he changed his usual cocky, arrogant expression to one of caring. I wondered how many times he'd pulled that trick on his mother. "Do you mind if we sit here, Danielle?" What the hell? The slight emphasis on my name seemed to make his cronies stop glaring.

Apparently if Draco called me by my first name, his followers were to assume he liked me and therefore I would not be teased. What a little cult leader! I suppose he learned form the best, Lucius and Narcissa, who learned from You-Know-Who. I wondered if they ever talked to Sirius.

"Well, since you asked, I guess I don't mind."

Blaise Zabini raised a perfect eyebrow and smirked flirtatiously at me. "What year are you in?" he asked, sidling up next to me on my seat.

"I'm a fifth year," I said politely. Although Blaise Zabini was extremely good-looking, he always acted like a spoiled prat. But it was nice having someone flirt with me. It rarely happened.

I watched, trying not to double up with laughter, as Pansy sat so close to Draco she might as well have been sitting on his lap, and both Crabbe and Goyle tried sitting on the seat with them, but their bulky frames prevented that. They got in a little push-and-shove fight, but eventually Crabbe sat down. Goyle tried to force him off, but Crabbe kicked him in the gut. Goyle sat beside Blaise, resigned. I couldn't help but snort into my fist and shake with suppressed laughter.

"I regret that those two aren't the brightest star in the heavens," Blaise commented rather loudly. He acted like they were deaf! Then again, judging by their reaction, it wasn't surprising he acted that way. They certainly did act like they couldn't hear his insult.

"Blaise," Draco warned, the tone obvious. Loyalty to his two idiot cronies came as a shock to me. I did not see _that_ coming.

Pansy put her head on his shoulder, and put her hand on his lap for a second. Draco appeared completely nonchalant about her obvious flirting with him. She glared at me for the briefest of moments, as if daring me to flirt with her only-somewhat-attractive boyfriend/crush, whichever he was.

"So you two hung out this summer?" Pansy asked me sharply, sitting up straighter and looping her arm through his. She actually managed to scoot closer to him.

"Her an I? No," Blaise said, as if it were obvious.

"She was speaking about us, Blaise. Her and me," Draco pointed out, grey eyes flickering to him for the briefest of moments before returning to the window. "Well, her mother obsesses over my pureblood family. They tolerate her because, well, Mother and Father love a sycophant. Who doesn't?"

I managed to repress a scoff. "It doesn't mean anything, Pansy. We just grew up together is all. Mother wants me to know what a real pureblood family is like, I think. She thinks I don't know that she's a muggle born." I rolled my eyes. Mother was such a liar.

Blaise put his arm on my shoulder and smiled a dazzling smile at me. "Oh, you can say mudblood. We don't mind." His voice was soothing and reassuring.

I didn't reply, but I did look away and stare out the window. I did not want to get into a fight today. Besides, it was five-to-one, five of which who actually cared about You-Know-Who and probably wouldn't have the slightest qualm about using Dark spells, and then the on--me--who did know Dark spells, but wasn't well rehearsed in them, and I wasn't that good of a duellist to fight five. Hell, I'd never even been in a duel before.

I stayed quiet while they all discussed. It was apparent to me that Draco was the ringleader and probably the smartest of them all, and Blaise was trying to get control of that, but in a subtle way. I could tell he wanted to be in Draco's place, but rather than be up front about it, he had to be sneaky. Slytherins are manipulative. I doubted Blaise would ever replace Draco though. Draco was far too cunning and already had experience in being a leader. I knew that--I had, after all, known the Malfoy family since I was little. Not that I was particularly proud of it.

Although they tried to round me up into the conversation several times, I usually didn't talk long. Normally I was a talker, but I had other things on my mind. Actually, the same things, since they were discussing You-Know-Who, but I had a completely different feeling towards him than they did, and I was getting sick with fear listening to them talk of their dreams and fantasies. It sucked having a Death Eater for a mother.

After the much-longer-than-usual train ride to Hogwarts, they all left, Crabbe and Goyle trying to leave through the door at the same time, which presented a problem considering they both had bulky frames, until Crabbe pushed out first. Pansy glared at me while she clung onto Draco's' arm, and Blaise basically escorted me out.

Somehow, on the way up to the castle, I got dragged onto their carriage which was dragged by the Thestrals. Only people who had seen death could see them, so I kept the fact I could see them quiet. Considering my mother killed my dad, and also considering she used to take me with her when she got angry and killed a random muggle, it didn't ever really surprise me. Of course, I was sure that the others in the carriage could see it too, since their families were similar, but if they didn't talk about it, I wouldn't. Then again, my mother was probably the only one who thought she had to prove something.

It was amazing Pansy and Draco hadn't been born Siamese twins, the way she held onto him, and that I hadn't threatened to kill her, the way she glared. It was at was also amazing that Blaise hadn't flat-out asked me to go on a date with him, the way he hung onto me, and that Crabbe and Goyle were actually sentient beings. But the most amazing thing? The fact they were actually speaking with me.

Not one of them, besides Draco, had ever talked to me, and Draco only during the summer months because, well, adults were boring. Although I will admit I did somewhat like Draco, _not_ in a romantic way, it was because he was the closest thing I'd had to a friend, it wasn't like we ever hung out. It wasn't like I even really wanted to, but I did get lonely. I suppose he got lonely too. He felt like his parents didn't really love him and so he always tried to show everyone up. To be honest, the boy is blind--his parents love him. I should know, because my mum doesn't love me. But when we were in school? We didn't even look at each other. So why were they suddenly acting like we had either been friends for a long time, or like we had never met before?

When the carriage pulled up, I quickly got out. I did not really want to be near them .I wasn't used to having people do that to me--flirt with me, talk with me--and so it really made me nervous .Did they want something from me? Why couldn't' they leave me alone? What the hell? Was I being antisocial, after longing for friends since I was little?

I was halfway to the castle when I felt someone grab my wrist form behind. I turned around. It was Draco. Pansy was flanked by Crabbe and Goyle and Blaise was talking with her, but it was obvious she was trying to get a peek at us. She couldn't hear us, though, for she was several feet away.

"Danielle--I know this is weird. You've never really acted like wanted to even talk to me. It's almost like you're ashamed we know each other, and I just don't stand for that. And them, well . . ." He rolled his eyes. "Look, I've always liked you. But I'm not stupid and I know you don't like me. That's why I don't really talk to you."

I pulled my wrist away from him. Draco was really smart. He was different from his friends. He actually, well, cared about what was around him. I wonder what made him different than his friends. Blaise certainly didn't care about being nice, but Draco had basically stood up for Crabbe and Goyle. Pansy treated Draco like a trophy, which, since he was the Slytherin Prince in all respects, it made sense.

"But why? I don't get it. I get you, Draco, but them? What's with the sudden mood change?"

"Blaise thinks you are attractive and worthy. Worthier than your mudblood mother." See, I didn't care if others decided to use the word, that was their prerogative, and it was their opinion and whatnot, but I would not say it. Whether or not he'd noticed that, I didn't know. "And, well, there are other things."

"Other?"

"You're not the only person I have over," he stated haughtily. "Professor Snape comes over, too, and he's been asking about you. He doesn't seem to hate you as much. In fact, he's asked about you more than he asks about anyone else, ever, and I might have let it slip. See, I was tired of them acting like you were a plague. You're beautiful and powerful and, let's face it, someone I can use, an ally, and so, well, I told them he asked about you and seemed concerned, so they think you're his favourite, besides me, of course. Everyone knows I'm his favourite. Everyone wants to be friends with Snape's teacher's pet." He let out a long, exasperated sigh. "Trust me when I say everyone. And if they don't, they hate you, but most Slytherins, when they hate other Slytherins, it's mostly backstabbing and sneaking around. They try to manipulate, see, thinking you don't know, so you can manipulate them. The other houses, well, who cares about them? They're lesser than us, obviously." He patted my arm and smirked in that annoying way of his. "Get used to it, Danielle. You weren't even a blip before--now you're either gonna be hated or loved. Always envied. You'll get whatever you want easier, though." With that, he punched my arm in a friendly way, and returned to his followers.

At first, the only things he said that even mattered to me was that Snape had inquired after me. What was that about? I kept thinking about it all the way to the Great Hall, where I sat at the Slytherin table. It wasn't until Draco and his crowd sat in front of me and several people pushed their way beside me that I thought about what he had said. Was it true? Would I be noticed now? Hated and loved and envied? Would I have, for lack of a better term, friends? Lackeys to do my bidding?

No, that was total bullocks. It had to be.

People I had never even seen or had realized was in in Slytherin nodded at me in greeting, waved, or actually spoke to me. Some gave me dagger-like glares, and others found a way to sit next to me. What the hell? Did Draco invite every damn Slytherin in existence to his house? I was used to them all treating him this way, but me?

As Draco passed me, he smirked. "What did I tell you? By the way, Pansy has a big mouth, and she tends to extend the truth. Several people think you're shagging Snape nightly. Have fun." Then he laughed as he walked off, sauntering towards his cronies and his love-slave.

Me? Shag Snape? I was only fifteen! And I had never even been kissed, let only been shagged!

I stormed over to the comfy chair beside the fire, which wasn't lit at the moment but the cool, green light from the lake shone throughout the marble common room. It illuminated the boy sitting there with the pale green light, shimmering slightly. He looked up at me. "Oh, sorry, did you want to sit here?" before I could even say a word, he smiled politely and stood. After that, he left, leaving the chair to me.

I slumped down in it and held my head in my hands. For some reason, I felt that I was very quickly going to miss being a loner.

Studying in the library was something I enjoyed doing. Not very many people frequented the library, unless it was absolutely necessary, so sometimes I went there, if for some reason I wasn't in the mood to sit next to Snape's office door. And right now I did not want to be seen near Snape's office reading quietly to myself.

Snape was starting to notice. I was only a month into the school year, and already he was noticing. People were whispering every time he walked by, about his hot affair with a student, and how it was with that Danielle girl he used to hate. Some of the boys were congratulating Snape on scoring someone 'so damn hot and look at her boobs, man' and some of the girls were saying that I 'wasn't that pretty or smart anyway what was the big deal' and other things. Some of the girls were starting to say Snape was really 'that bad' and some of the boys were saying 'it made a type of sense' and all that great fun stuff. I was so confused. I had half of the girls saying Snape wasn't as ugly as they thought he had been and the other half saying I was ugly and Snape was stupid for choosing me, and half the boys saying I was sexy and the other half saying they'd seen it all along.

Some people had the audacity to even say things to my face. "Danielle, oh my God, like, how is he in bed?" "I bet he's, you know, equipped, he looks like he is, I can tell, he is right" "Good god, you must either really have crappy grades and need good ones super bad, or you've got the weirdest taste, like, ever" "You givin' him some o' that? Break off a piece for me, damn!" "You know, you guys are perfect together" and, the ever popular, "So, when did you two, you know, start loving/shagging/not hating each other?"

Those were the nicer ones. What bothered me more were the "whores" and "sluts" and "trollops" that followed me everywhere I went. Or the group of girls who would be completely civil and kind to me to my face, then as soon as I walked away, would giggle incessantly and whisper, chancing glances at me. Or sometimes, the appreciative glances from the guys.

Every now and then, there would be the sympathetic people, who would smile comfortingly at me and try to start up a polite conversation, and tell me that love was love and it didn't matter, or if someone gave me a dirty look, they would tell me to ignore them. Whether or not they were manipulating me or actually trying to be kind because they felt bad, I didn't know, but I would take relish in them. Then there were some who didn't even seem to know who I was or care. I liked them the best.

Some people wanted to get to know me better, I think because they wanted good grades too. They didn't realize I earned them by actually having brains. Some people were so superficial. They would talk to me about hair or clothes, and though I agreed that hygiene was important and, yes, green really wasn't her colour, it wasn't that important. Seriously. Who cared? Who really gave a damn about the best clothes, hair, and makeup? I was by no means a model, but I did take care of myself, and only now did they notice I was pretty.

To be honest, I didn't even care about my physical appearance that much. Whilst I had never thought of myself as beautiful, I had never thought of myself as ugly, either. Perhaps a few times, I had thought I wasn't pretty, and a few times I thought I was pretty when I dressed up, but it really hadn't been very important to me. I was more focused on other things. Like reading, drawing, or just going to class. I didn't take notes, because I didn't need to in order to get at least average, well, a bit better than average, but I did like to read. I did strike up a conversation every now and then. I liked to write stories and walk around at night.

And Quidditch was not my thing. For some reason, people thought it was. I don't' know where that came from, but everyone seemed to talk about Quidditch when they were around me. Or the Triwizard tournament. I understood that, it was pretty cool. Everyone knew Krum was going to be the champion from Durmstrang, but as for Beauxbatons and Hogwarts, there were speculations everywhere. Still, the fact they talked to me about it was strange, since they hadn't cared about me at all a few months earlier.

The worst thing about all of this was I couldn't keep my temper in check. I knew I should just laugh it off and act like it didn't bother me, because it wasn't even true, but I snapped back. I got angry. I guess to some it probably looked defensive, but really, I was _not_ one to back down. I would never take it. I guess they probably would have if they thought I didn't care, but who wouldn't care? I was not sleeping with Snape!

"I didn't think it would've been this bad," Draco told me once, in private.

He shrugged it off and rolled his eyes. There were many things I did not like about Draco--he was spoiled, and attention-seeking, and extremely full of himself, not to mention blind to his parents' love, who showered him with gifts (although he took it as just buying his love and trying to get him to shut up, and care about material possessions and showing off, which was true, but also because they loved him) and talked constantly about him and how proud they were of him, and they actually listened to what he said--but something I did like was that he didn't care what people thought of him, mostly because he thought he was all that and a bag of bloody chips, so he was blunt and said what he thought.

"But I don't really care, because it's the price you pay for being popular. And oh, you are popular. You just haven't found your cronies yet." He pointed over his shoulder at Crabbe and Goyle. They were several feet behind him, staring off into space. "I don't even think I have _real_ friends, but at least I've got loads of people who pretend to be and do what I say."

"Draco, I want real friends, though," I had murmured. Having no friends was better than having fake friends.

"Well _honestly_ who doesn't? Point _is_ that you are popular. You can't be that without having this."

"But I didn't want to be popular!"

"Well, you and I are very different people. I for one like this. You think there aren't rumours about _me?_ Eventually it'll be old news." He waved his hand like he was waving away some foul odour. "I didn't' mean for this to happen, really, but I don't care. But it will become old news, and people will stop being so stubborn about it. Then you'll just have--" He pointed over his shoulder and quirked a platinum eyebrow. "Still, people will follow you and say stupid things behind your back, but it's worth it. Once this becomes old news .And it will. Eventually, people won't care about this Snape and you thing. But at least people will talk to you. You might find a _real_ friend--" I noticed his slight mocking tone. "--that way, but first, you have to be noticed, and no one wants to notice a girl whose own Head of House seems to hate her. It's the price."

I remember how stupid I thought he sounded. "But nobody talks behind your back, Draco."

"Of course they do. _Publicity_ Danielle. Why do you think people adore me?" He always acted like. I was stupid, but I was not. But he was also smart, and honest too, and knew about things I didn't apparently.

As soon as he pointed it out to me, I noticed exactly how right he was. People, even Pansy, would talk about Draco's shortcomings as soon as he walked away, but not nearly as vehemently as they talked about me. Some talked of the time he killed a muggle for the fun of it, and how wrong that was, or how he constantly tried to get others in trouble. Never mind the fact that most of them did the same thing.

Every time he gave me a sympathetic look or one of his I-told-you-so cocky glares, I let him do it, because he was right. "I did it to help you," he was fond of saying whenever I started to get stressed out. Of course, that rarely helped me at the time, but later, I thought that maybe he had. Why he wanted to help me, I had no idea, but I was sure it was for a selfish reason.

Snape noticed, though. He noticed how girls would send him suggestive looks, or give him I-can't-believe-you-you-filthy-pervert glares. He also noticed how people crowded me more than ever before, and how people would snigger when I walked by or away. Whenever he passed me in the halls, he would stop me to ask if everything was fine, and I would look him right in the eye and lie. I got the feeling he knew I was lying, although I wasn't sure how since I could lie rather well.

Maybe he knew because he had seen their behaviour to me. Whatever the reason, he actually became more civil, which actually fuelled the rumours a bit, I am sure. He was never nice, however he did call on me every now and then in class, or he would compliment how my potion looked. He was treating me like any other Slytherin, but because of the rumours people thought I was treated better, or at least they noticed it. Most of the Gryffindors in my Potions class didn't notice, but some wondered what had changed between us. None of them had any idea of the rumour, though.

Thank God Slytherin didn't associate with any other house.

The library was usually free of sniggers and shouts, sicne it was supposed to be quiet .Having had quite a stressful month, I needed some alone time.

To think that a month and a half ago, I had been excited to come to school. Snape had given me a present, and I thought that perhaps we would be friends. It was ridiculous, I knew that, but I had always wanted a real friend. I had thought I was going to get it, finally. And now I couldn't even pursue that. I didn't want to encourage any rumours.

A part of me just didn't want to hear it anymore, wanted it to be over and for them to think he hated me still so I wouldn't' have to deal with it, but another part of me didn't' want to encourage the rumours because that would ruin his career. I actually cared about his career. I had never cared about anyone besides myself before, and I had never done or wanted anything unless it was all about me. I guess I had been a bit selfish.

Hell, even the night I came in on Snape trashing his room I had comforted him, not because I felt bad, but because I wondered what he would think of me if I walked away.

No, this was all wrong, I was never that selfish.

Well, I had been a total bitch to Lupin when he read my letter. Then I got mad at him for not yelling at me, when actually, it did show much more maturity to accept he had done wrong and not throw a tantrum. I had been the immature one, wanting to get in a fight, instead of settling it.

No, no, I was wrong. I couldn't care about Snape's career. I didn't care about anyone but myself. Look what having friends did. All it did was cause jealousy and backstabbers. Once anyone started trusting another, it left him open to be hurt. I didn't even lie these people, and I was being hurt. Me trusting Snape hurt me when I realized how these rumours could affect him. I did not like feeling bad over someone else's problems.

Just like I didn't like Lupin being fired because it was unfair. I didn't like that someone let it slip he was a werewolf. Yeah, and everyone knew who that someone was. It hurt my feelings that Snape would do that. I did not like feeling that way.

No, I didn't care about Snape's involvement in this at all.

But I did, and I knew I did, because the entire time I had been mocked and teased, and had fake friends talk behind my back ,and people who didn't even know me try to use me, I had wanted to go running to Snape and tell him everything, tell him the injustice of it all, and beg him to somehow fix it, because I couldn't bear it anymore and I was afraid he would lose his job. I felt he had a right to know.

But I would never tell him.

"I know you're not sleeping with Snape," some boy said suddenly, sitting beside me as he spoke. I looked up from the book I was reading, suddenly realizing just how quiet the library was because his whisper sounded like a yell to me.

I had recognized him form saying something about Quidditch to me once, but I couldn't remember his name. "Oh . . . Thank you."

"I'm in seventh year. I told you what a Wronski Feint was." I nodded. I remembered him now, although not his name. "More people know it's a lie than not. They just like to pretend it is, because then their lives are interesting."

"I never see you around, just that once, in the halls."

He was very good-looking. He had grey eyes that radiated kindness, and a perfectly symmetrical face. "Oh, I'm not a Slytherin. I'm a Hufflepuff. I'm Cedric, by the way. Cedric Diggory." He stuck out his hand politely.

I shook it. "I'm Danielle Kensith."

We let go of each others' hand. "I have, um, an acquaintance in your house. He told me what people were saying. I know it isn't true, and so do they. They just like to tear others down and make up excuses for you being liked by Snape, because they just don't want to admit that he doesn't like them. I wouldn't' worry too much on it. It'll die down eventually." He smiled a dazzling smile at me.

Cedric and Draco both told me it would die down eventually, but it certainly did seem like it.

"Anyway, I better go. I'll see you around, maybe." With that he stood up and left the library.

That guy seemed nice. I was seriously thinking about what he said, and it did make sense. Even Blaise, who flirted with me constantly and told me that he was my only true friend, never mind the fact he was the first one to talk about how lucky Snape was when around guys, and that Draco was more of a friend than he was because at least he told me what was what, said that he didn't really believe it, and that Pansy had made it all up because she was jealous and thought I would going to take her boyfriend from her, simply because he knew me.

After I left the library I started to go down the common room. When I was in the dungeons, maybe a hall or two away from Snape's office, maybe a bit further form the portrait, I heard sniggering come from a dark hallway. Millicent Bulstrode stepped out, with two younger boys who seemed to be taken with her, although I had no idea why.

"Ooh, if it isn't Snape's pet," she taunted.

"Sod off, Millicent," I growled, really not in the mood. I started to walk off.

"Going to see your lover?" one of the boys crooned.

I turned around sharply and pointed my wand at them. "He is not my lover!"

The two boys laughed. The uglier of the two (which was really saying something) said, "Let's see what's so special."

He waved his wand, muttered a simple Vanishing spell, and both of them laughed. There was a moment when I didn't know what they'd done, and I still kept my wand pointed at them, but then I realized exactly how cold it was, and that I was standing in the dungeons with nothing but my bra and panties on. I let out a shriek and tried to cover up my body with my hands even more so, but then all three of them started shrieking with laughter.

My mind went blank, unable to think of a spell to clothe myself in my embarrassment, my skin colder than it really should have been. I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling my wand against my flesh. For one glorious second all was quiet, with only my blood humming in my ears and my face burning hot while my body shivered. Then I heard raucous laughter and gasps and giggles.

I turned around sharply to see many of my fellow Slytherins behind me. I shrieked again and felt tears spring up in my eyes. Utter humiliation. Oh, God, they were laughing at me, and I was only in my underwear.

I charged throug hthe crowd, tears fallign down my cheeks wil I treid to suppress the sob, keepign my arms wrapped around my belly, which had a slight curve to it that I hadn't ever thought of chubby before, but now did, and I felt the muscles in my legs ripple as I ran, and how my bum bounced each time my feet pounded the cold, hard cement. I had curved hips and perky, a bit larger than average breasts, which seemed to bounce as well, and I hated it. I hated how my skin moved with each step, and how the laughter swirled around me, louder and more vicious, people touching parts of me I had never had touched while I pushed through them.

My tears were hot and my sniffles and small sobs were loud enough for them to hear, and some of them pointed it out. I had to get away.

As soon as I made through the crowd, I shouted off a stunning spell so strong (probably because of my anger and embarrassment and sadness) that several of them were blasted back and knocked over others.

I charged through the halls, sniffling, all the way to Snape's office. I prayed he was there. I knocked on his door frantically, not daring to go to the common room because I knew some students chose to go to dinner late. Most specifically, Draco, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle, and Blaise. Besides, the common room was further away.

The door opened violently. "What?" he demanded loudly, sneer ready and black eyes gleaming angrily.

Then he saw me, snivelling and shivering with my arms around my body, wand clutched tight in my hand, with tears running down my face. "Professor--" I croaked, sounded completely pathetic and hating myself for it, feeling fat and ugly and awkward standing before him, but not nearly as bad as I had. I let out a loud sob and then gasped, trying to hold it back, although my chest was heaving and threatening to explode, as were my eyes.

He blinked in shock, eyes unmoving from my frame. Then he grabbed my upper arms tightly and jerked me into his office roughly, slamming the door shut behind him.

Before I could move, he was in front of me, hands on my shoulders, his eyes fixedly looking in mine and very carefully not looking below.

I felt very warm suddenly, and my sniffling got quieter. He rubbed his hands down my shoulders and then back up again, refusing to look at anywhere other than my face, his hooked nose barely a foot from mine, his mouth slightly parted.

"Professor?" I whispered, mostly out of fear. The last thing I really wanted was anyone's hands on me, but at the same time, it was rather comforting.

He very carefully brushed some of my red hair from my face, looking down on me while I looked up at him, his other hand still holding my arm.

His palm was hot against the flesh of my arm, and there was a very intense, swooping sensation in my stomach, and my throat closed up. His eyes were so intense, staring at me, careful not to look away. My heart thudded violently against my rib cage, and was no longer embarrassed, but felt a throbbing between my legs when I realized how close his chest was to mine, and that he was touching me, and he kept brushing his hair away from my face. There was a lurching feeling, that familiar sensation I got whenever I fell or tripped, only this was pleasant, and my breathing was getting quicker, and my mouth tingled.

"Miss Kensith," he murmured, voice smooth and low and making me feel things I hadn't felt before and were definitely inappropriate for the situation.

"Yes?" I whispered back, stepping ever-so-slightly closer for some reason.

His eyes finally left my face and travelled over my body, but I didn't mind. When his eyes met mine after he looked at my body, I felt my heart leap into my throat. My hand went to his chest and clutched the fabric of his robes, my other hand holding my wand tightly, dropping from my abdomen to my side. He brushed my hair aside once again, he brushed his thumb against me jaw line, and the heat in the room became almost unbearable, but oddly pleasurable at the same time. I felt oddly light-headed wit hshallow breath. His black eyes searched my face, then he held my chin between his thumb and forefinger, and tilted my head up while he leaned down ever so slightly.

I did not expect what happened next.

* * *

A/N--Thanks for those who have continued reading my story. As awlays, I appreciate constructive criticism and reviews. This is my first fanfic posted, so I'm nervous.

I was especially nervous for this chapter, though, because I guess it was like therapy for me. You see, this exact thing happened to me when I was fourteen. I became freinds with this popular kid, and I pissed off his girlfriend. We had a math teacher who looked and acted like Snape, and I knew him in from church and because I was friends with his niece, and everyone knew my favourite character was Snape, so that girl decided to tell a few stories, since we respected each other . . . the rumours spread like wildfire. However, instead of Vanishing my clothes, the bitch just tore off my shirt (it was button-up) and I ran into the bathroom. His niece brought me a shirt. I kinda viewed him as a dad, though, so there wasn't any romantic feelings. So, other than the shirt thing and the me-not-having-feelings-for-him thing, it's basically the same.

Oops, did I just say Danielle had feelings for Snape? Well, gosh, there goes THAT surprise. JK--we all knew that except her. She's still in denial.


	6. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Revenge Most Sweet

"Where are your clothes?" he inquired.

I blinked several time. "What?" I pulled my head back a bit, hoping to God he hadn't noticed me lean forward. I swear he had leaned down. I thought we were going to kiss, and I had actually wanted it.

"Your clothes. I assume you realize you aren't wearing any."

I cleared my throat and stepped away from him, feeling suddenly cold. I swear he had leaned down. Perhaps I had imagined it. "Oh . . . Millicent Bulstrode . . . She vanished my clothes in front of everyone," I mumbled. He quirked an eyebrow up at me. "I didn't want to go to the common room because I knew Draco and his little friends would still be there."

He gave me a look over, but not one that made me uncomfortable, almost like he was regarding me suspiciously. "Coming here doesn't make much sense either, considering you have been avoiding me this past month."

"Oh . . ." I folded my arms over my abdomen. I was nervous again. "Yeah, there's a reason for that."

"Would you like to talk about it?" he asked me.

I looked away form him and focused on a jar with something strange floating inside of it. I didn't know what it was. "It doesn't concern you," I muttered, shifting around nervously. I didn't want to be here anymore, and I felt a little let down. I had been expecting him to kiss me.

"It concerns you."

His voice was soft. There was a second or two in which I didn't know why I had déjà vu, but then I remembered. I had said the exact thing to him the night I saw him trashing his room. I looked back at him and smiled a little. "Yes."

He nodded once, then swept across the room and grabbed a cloak. It was the thick, black one I noticed he wore often, when it was chilly and he needed extra clothing over his robes. He walked over to me and, in a rather gentlemanly and soothing way I had not really expected from him, draped it over my shoulders. He put one hand on the small of my back and the other on my forearm, so that he was right beside me, and led me to the chair in front of his desk. I sat down, feeling empty when his body pulled away from mine. I hadn't realized him standing that close to me had felt comforting.

He sat in front of me. He stared into my eyes, patient, and waited for me to talk.

Without knowing why, I started crying again, the hot tears burning my cheeks. I looked down, ashamed, not really wanting to cry in front of Snape. For some reason I thought he was going to tell me to quit snivelling, but he never did; he just let me cry.

Not much longer after that, I was sobbing the entire story out to him. I told him how everyone thoguth we were having an affair, which was why I avoided him, because I didn't want the rumours to get worse. I told him how I was afraid he would lose his job because of it, and of my newfound popularity. I told him everything, including Millicent and those two boys Vanishing my clothes. I told him through my tears, feeling slightly weak and childish, but I couldn't stop it.

After I told him, I slowed my crying to small sniffles, and I regretted crying at all because now I knew I looked lie ka wet rat, with my face wet and eyes slightly swollen. I was glad he gave me that cloak though, but now I didn't feel so exposed. Thank God they hadn't decided to Vanish my underwear too.

He was quiet for awhile after that, his lips pursed and eyes narrowed. After a long while of him staring angrily and silently, his pursed lip curled into a snarl. "Dunderheads," he spat.

He looked furious. His sallow face was turning a slight shade of red, black eyes glittering. I had expected him to get angry, but for some reason, not this much.

"I know."

"I'll teach them to spout off idiocy about me." He stood up suddenly, the red on his face darkening slowly. "Millicent Bulstrode will have detention every Saturday until December, and so will her two cronies. They will be taken straight up to the headmaster for further punishment, and I am now deducting fifty points for their behaviour!"

"You can't do that! If you get angry over this, they'll know I told you, and then they'll think . . . It'll only encourage the rumours! Please! Please don't . . . tell McGonagall! Make he take care of it--anyone but you, please!"

"This is about me! I deserve to--"

"To what? Deserve to give everyone _more_ of a reason to think we're doin' it every chance we get?"

"I will not stand for this humiliation!"

I stood up, clutching his cloak around my body tightly. "This is about me too! Please! Let someone else handle this! You could lose your job, did you realize that?"

"Yes, I realize that! Do you expect me to let them get away with this?"

"You took fifty points from your own house, I think you did enough!" I shouted. I could not have him making a big deal out of this. The students would just think we were going at it some more. It was already surprising enough that he took that many points.

"You are spineless, just as Lupin! You avoid me rather than tell me and now that you do, you ask me to let them continue on in this manner!" He shook his head, looking disgusted with me.

"And do you realize what they'll say?"

"I did not realize you cared what people thought or said. You never care what I say to you, which is most irritating, especially at this moment." He strode around his desk and grabbed my arm and started pulling me to the door. "We are discussing this with them now."

I pulled out of his grasp. "No, we are not!" He raised both his eyebrow incredulously. "Of course I care what they're saying! This is total bullocks! And like you said, this is about you too, and you could lose your job!"

He stared at me, realization sliding over his features. When the red faded from his skin and he let out a sigh, head bowed slightly, I knew that he understood what I had understood a long time ago. Why I hadn't come to him and why I had avoided him.

He shook his head turned away from me. "It seems that though the faces change, the students do not." He folded his arms over his narrow chest. "It seems I will always be a joke, I will always be humiliated, even by the students of my own house. To think I would sleep with you . . ."

For some reason, that insulted me. What, was I disgusting? "You're right. I guess no one would want to sleep with me anyway," I snapped, glaring at him. I didn't know why it offended me so much.

He glanced at me for a moment, privy to my hurt tone. "You're underage and my student. It isn't because I find you unattractive. Try not to take everything as a personal insult, Miss Kensith."

I realized that he had called me attractive, and I couldn't say anything after that.

"Whether you realize it or not, this is also an insult to me. If not on what they think of my moral standards, but I don't suppose there have been many students complimenting you on your choice, have they?"

I shrugged, feeling my cheeks burn slightly. Did he realize what he just said? He didn't act embarrassed or any different, so maybe he hadn't. Or maybe he felt comfortable with it. Simply stating someone was attractive didn't mean anything. There were plenty of people I found attractive but did not like. Blaise Zabini, for instance.

"Well . . . A couple have asked if you have a big penis. In fact, some of the girls don't think I'm very pretty--not that I think I am either--and don't understand what you see in me. They're jealous, I think."

"I highly doubt they would be jealous. I am nothing interesting to look upon."

Well, that was sad. Snape really was pretty damn ugly, but it was just sad that he accepted it. I walked forward and raised my hand to pat his arm, something that I thought would be comforting.

Before I managed to pat his arm, he said, "But I _am_ well-endowed."

I blinked at him. Had I heard him correctly? One side of his mouth curled upward slightly, and I couldn't help it. I laughed. I laughed so hard, I actually felt my muscles weaken and I had to lean against him for support. I couldn't believe he had actually said that. My laughs were coming out wheezy, but loud, and my chest was starting to ache. My eyes were wet again, but not from sadness. He put his arms on my shoulder, the strength in his arms an suddenness of him doing making me think he was originally going to push me away, but then he didn't.

When I finally stopped laughing, tears of mirth down my face and chest aching terribly, I still couldn't wipe the grin off of my face. I looked up at him, knowing I must look silly with that grin, but I couldn't help it. His lips were pressed tight, obviously to stop himself from smiling, but his eyes were bright. I had never seen his eyes light up like that before.

"Are you quite all right?"

I realized how awkward it must have been to have me leaning against his chest, and I stepped away. His hands were still on my arms, which I had now curled up inside the cloak. "Yes, I'm fine. I just can't believe you said that."

"Was I supposed leave the question unanswered or lie?"

I chuckled and shook my head. "No, it's fine. Really."

"I must say, I did not expect that reaction."

I shrugged as he let go of my arm. "Yeah, well, you know it was funny."

"I'm not usually regarded as humorous."

I let one arm out of my cloak and squeezed his arm gently. "I think you're pretty funny," I stated, my voice quiet for some reason. I don't know why I was squeezing his upper arm, but he noticed, and looked at it for a second before staring into my eyes.

There was a long silence while I stared into his eyes. I got that swooping sensation again, the same one I'd had when I expected him to kiss me, which really was a silly thing to expect, but for some reason, I was thinking about it again.

After a few strange seconds of him searching my face with the expression he always had, the one I figured he thought of Lily with, he stepped away from me and walked over to his desk. He sat down at it and focused on rearranging essays instead of me. I did notice that he wasn't really progressing in anything while he rearranged the papers. It looked almost like he was busying himself purposely.

"They will have to be punished in some way or another, Miss Kensith."

My head was buzzing strangely. What had just happened? Had I just squeezed his arm? Wasn't that flirting? No, no, it wasn't. Of course not. Like would ever flirt with Snape.

I stood there awkwardly. "I know. But . . . Well, it can't be you."

"Obviously." He was still rearranging essays, which I noticed were all corrected.

"Well, we're both Slytherins. I'm sure we can think of something." I went over and stood by his desk, but I did not sit. "I guess I could just hex them."

"I do not condone hexing, Miss Kensith," he murmured, though I had the distinct impression he only said it because he felt he had to.

"Well, give me a detention then. I'll do what I please. It won't get you in trouble."

He stopped shuffling through the essays, setting them down on his desk. He looked up at me. "I have a plan, Miss Kensith. However, you will end up with a detention, but it may also quell these unfortunate rumours. Are you interested?"

I nodded. "Of course."

Sniggers followed me when I walked into the common room. I had purposely waited until after dinner so that the common room would be full. I sat down in a chair, staring at everyone standing in the common room. The green light from the lake shimmered everywhere, on the grey marble and the elegant decorations everywhere. And there Millicent Bulstrode stood, next to the fireplace, with her two little boyfriends. She pointed at me and started retelling the story to a group nearby.

Draco seemed to glide to me. "I heard what Bulstrode did." So they weren't on first name basis? Good. "I can't believe all of this is happening. To think that this is my fault . . ." Was Draco feeling guilty over something? He sighed. "Well, at least you know what I go through every day. Stop pitying yourself. Once you stop acting like it bothers you, it won't be that bad. Honestly." Then he walked away. What a berk.

But he did make a point. There were things said about Draco when eh wasn't' around that, well, I guess were worse than what they said about me. I wasn't eh only one sleeping with Snape, apparently. And I guess no one claimed that my parents were related and I was born of incest, so I guess he would know what he was talking about. Maybe if I did stop acting like it bugged me, they wouldn't be so adamant . . . Still, I had to pay her back.

I was wearing a pair of white robes. Snape had gone into the common room and went into the girls' dormitory (apparently there was a spell Heads of House knew to get into the girls' dormitory without being throw out) and brought some clothes to me so I wouldn't have to be seen wearing his cloak.

I waited patiently for a few minutes ,glaring at Millicent the whole time. Although she was on the opposite side of the common room, she noticed. She actually seemed a bit fearful.

Snape finally strode into the common room, looking absolutely livid. "Which one of you told that insolent Potter the password to Slytherin common room?"

Everyone remained silent. That was typical. Nobody had given him the password after all.

"I have just spent my time doing the tedious task of asking Salazar Slytherin's portrait to change the password to 'surreptitious' and I doubt I did it for no reason. Now, admit to it, or I shall have to figure it out myself, and I will _not_ be pleased."

No one said a word.

I found it rather hard not to burst out laughing, but I managed to keep a straight face. Really, Snape was an amazing actor. Had I not know he was doing this for our plan, I would have believe him.

"Do not feign ignorance! I just overheard Potter saying he saw Miss Kensith naked, and unless he had way into the common room, how is that even possible?"

Draco, as we had suspected, stepped forward. Being the little sycophant he was, he smirked knowingly. "Sir, Millicent Bulstrode Vanished her clothes in front of everybody."

"No I didn't! He's lying!" she shouted, also predictably.

"Yes you did!" I shouted, standing out of the chair. "Everyone here saw you do it!"

"Professor, she's lying, to get me in trouble!" she whined, and her two little boyfriends whined.

I yelled out a the first curses that sprung to my head, and Millicent and her two friends were all belching slugs, and were hopping around, since I had also done a Leg-Locker Curse. Most of the people around them started laughing.

"Miss Kensith!"

"They Vanished my clothing!"

"That is no excuse! I am the Head of Slytherin and I will decide punishment!"

I stormed over to him, glaring at him. "Fat load of good your punishments are, Snivellus!"

His expression was so realistic I wondered if he felt real pain from it. He had suggested I say it, but now I regretted listening to him. "Detention, Miss Kensith, this Saturday," he growled.

"But . . . But Dumbledore said you had to be nice to me!" I shouted.

"I doubt even he could stand your ignorance, Miss Kensith. You have a detention, this Saturday, at six o' clock. Do not be late." With that, he swept form the room, his cloak swishing behind him.

I stood there, facing the portrait, smiling. The plan went as expected. Really, Snape was extremely intelligent. He'd come up with the whole thing. It was amazing, really, his ability to know how others would act, and how to act in order to get what he wanted.

I turned around and saw everyone staring at me. "So . . . Dumbledore made him be nice to you?" Pansy aired, her tone reminding of someone whose dog just died.

"Shut up, Pansy," I snapped, then strode past them.

When I made it into the fifth-year girls' dormitory, I fell back on my bed, feeling warm, and a silly grin on my face. Snape was amazingly intelligent, and he just amazed me.

I slept rather well that night. When I woke, I felt rather giddy, and couldn't help but smile. I didn't really remember much of my dream, but I knew it had something to do with Snape in detention, but I couldn't remember anything else. Well, except for the fact I was naked in it, but I doubt that held any importance.

* * *

A/N I only wish I managed to get revenge on the bitch who did that to me. Thank you for the reviews, and sorry for the cliffhanger. I would like to say that I do not have a beta. Well, other than my brother. He's dyslexic, and most of opinions consist of "Harry Potter? Tch, I'd flat-out castrate the boy" or "Dude, where's Ron? You should put Ron in there, and kill that know-it-all Hermione, too. Draco is tight, yo, but Snape is the fking master!" Which is kinda sad, because I really like Hermione and Harry. . .well, I really like all the characters at least a little. Even Voldemort has his moments . . . sort of . . . so all the faults you find are mine. Blame me for faults.

That being said, thank you for reading this, and thanks for being supportive of my first fanfic. I'm thinking about writing a Snape/OFC parody. Should I?


	7. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Things I Don't Know

I showed up to detention ten minutes early. It wasn't that I meant to. I had been just wandering around the school and had ended up in front of his office ten minutes before it was time. I knocked n the office door, but he didn't answer, so I figured he was gone. I decided to wait outside the door rather than wander off and have to come back. Ten minutes wasn't that long.

The points the had taken from Millicent and her friends, which equalled fifty, had somehow been replaced. I knew he had taken extra care to add Slytherin points more often than usual to make up for the loss. And he says he has no qualms about taking points from his own house.

Almost everyone had come up to me and told me how they knew Snape and I weren't having an affair all along, and that they had always stuck up for me. Lies. I'd heard most of them insult me and tease me at one time or another. At least now they all acted nice to my face, like Draco had said they would. Everyone believed what Snape had said about Dumbledore asking him to be nice to me.

The only one who didn't believe the Dumbledore story was Draco. Unfortunately for me, Draco was walking down the hallway at the very moment.

"Danielle," he greeted, although it sounded suspiciously like a sneer. Crabbe and Goyle stood behind him, staring at me with a confused expression on his face. "Crabbe, Goyle, go to the common room. I"ll be there in a minute." They nodded and left.

"Hey, Draco."

He walked right up to me, standing barely a foot away. "I know Dumbledore didn't tell Snape to be nice to you. That was all planned out, wasn't it?"

I shrugged. "So? How could you tell?"

"You think Dumbledore hasn't asked Snape to be nice to Potter? I doubt Dumbledore would be more concerned for you than that scarhead." He gave me a look over, his lip curled slightly. "I think there's some truth in what Pansy said," he drawled, raising his eyebrows.

"Snape and I are not sleeping together, Draco. I haven't even been kissed."

"Well I know he likes you. And I know you like him. You get this funny face whenever we talk about him." He regarded me coolly again.

I made a 'tut' noise and rolled my eyes. "I do not make a funny face when we talk about him. Draco, what's the big deal? He likes you too. You're his favourite."

"I never said I was angry, Danielle, I was merely pointing out that I knew he really does like you. If he isn't nice to Precious Potter and I know Dumbledore asked him to, then he wouldn't do that for you. You might have everyone else fooled, but not me." He folded his arms.

While Draco was only mildly attractive, he was extremely impressive. It was probably the rich family and the fact they spoiled him, but he really was. Not even Blaise, who was attractive and confident, had the ability to give off the vibe he was completely in charge of every situation like Draco was. Of course, Snape had even more control than that, but he wasn't spoiled like that blonde prat in front of me was, and he didn't think he was better than everyone else.

"What's the point, Draco?" I finally asked, sighing after I looked at him for a moment.

He merely shrugged. "You're finally becoming a _real_ Slytherin. Manipulating, scheming--you're finally getting it. I always knew you did what you wanted, but I didn't think you had the . . . guts to do what it took. Or at least I didn't think you had the patience. Good job. You're gonna need it if you want to survive the House. Sometimes, the means really do justify the ends. Sometimes you have to be mean."

"You're always mean."

"And nobody tries to overthrow me, do they? Well, except Potter, but Gryffindors are all rash and impulsive and attention seeking anyway." He unfolded his arms and smirked at me. "I can see a mean streak in you. I finally get why my dad likes you. Still, I feel bad for you. I can't imagine living with a mudblood." He rolled his eyes and sauntered off.

I waited for a few more minutes by myself before Snape showed up. He was early, too. He stared at me for a few seconds. "You're early," he finally stated.

"Yeah." I smiled briefly at him.

He opened his office door and we both walked in. When it shut, he said; "Have your housemates changed their attitude towards you?"

"Yeah," I answered, facing him.

"Very well. Are you going to continue to hex Millicent in front of me, so as to punish her further and so I can give more detentions?"

"Of course. I'm not gonna let her get away with that."

He nodded. "And any excuse for us to prove that we are not fornicating is welcomed."

He went over to his desk and grabbed a piece of parchment off of it. I followed him. "So what'll it be today? Scrubbing cauldrons?" I asked, trying to get a glimpse of the parchment he had.

"No . . . today, I require your assistance in rearranging my personal store. Some ingredients have a shelf life, and other needs to be constantly taken care of. Also, I prefer to keep the vials dusted. Who knows how lint and dust can affect a potion? I'd rather not find out." He handed me the parchment. "This is how I prefer to keep my ingredients organized. As you will notice, they are first organized by type, then acidity, then alphabetized in their section. Do you understand my instructions on the parchment?"

I looked over the instructions. They seemed simple enough, although time consuming. I nodded as an answer.

"Follow me."

I followed him to his personal stores. It was rather cramped, enough room for maybe three people, but I wouldn't suggest more than two. The shelves were high so there was a ladder, and many of the shelves were crowded. He quickly explained where the sections were located, and pointed out that the more dangerous an ingredient, the higher it would be.

Since it was generally chilly in the dungeons, I had come with a cloak, and I congratulated myself on my intelligence since, judging by the amount of ingredients there were, it was going to be a rather long night.

First, we both started taking down vials of ingredients whose expiration date was either too close for comfort or slightly past due. Every time we threw something away, I noticed he would mark it down on a piece of parchment he had.

We worked mostly in silence, dusting and rearranging. We started on the lower levels and slowly began working our way up. I dusted each vial and threw away anything that I was asked to. If there was something in the wrong spot, I would put it where it belonged.

"The dunderheads have this stubborn inability to put ingredients back where they belong. Common sense dictates that one should put vials and other ingredients back where they belong. I suppose Hogwarts was not blessed with many an intelligent student."

I chuckled. "Yeah, I've noticed that too." I searched my area again. "Someone crammed the boomslang skin next to the bezoars. The skin is . . . Well, it's all torn and crunched."

He was behind me very suddenly. I could feel his chest against my back. He leaned over me, peering over my shoulder, so that I was almost pushed up against the shelves with his body against mine. Snape, actually, smelled rather nice. I don't know what scent it was, but I liked it. My heart seemed to beat harder and I got a little light headed, him being so near to me.

"What dunderhead did this? Boomslangs are poisonous, and the poison secreted into the skin through magic is what makes them so vital. Did you know this?"

"Actually, no."

"Of course not. It is knowledge above your year. It is used in a variety of potions, normally ones that force the drinker into a different state--polyjuice potions, for instance--and it is what balances it out--without the poison, one would simply not be able to put on their new skin, or even worse, possibly not be able to revert into one's original state. Putting the skin beside the bezoar has made the poison useless and, therefore, its magical property. We will have to throw this stock away."

He, very angrily, began grabbing the old boomslang skins and throwing them away. I helped him, suddenly very aware just how cramped the area was, and how close we were to each other.

As we worked, he would explain the different properties of each ingredient we came across, explaining what made it special, and the different ways it could be used. There was a section where he kept finished potions, and he explained why certain potions used different properties of an ingredients, even if eth same ingredient was used.

"You enjoy Potions," he stated while he put a dusted vial where it went.

I nodded. "Yeah, I do. What made you say that?"

"I have been told you have a habit of only turning in what is absolutely necessary in your other classes, yet you always turn in my essays. You never turn in late work, either."

I smiled at him, then brushed my red hair from my face. "Yeah, well, you are a good teacher, and the class is interesting. I like Defence Against eth Dark Arts, too. At least Moody knows what he is talking about."

"He was an Auror." He plucked an ingredient off of the shelf in front of him, then turned to me. "Will you please put this where it belongs?"

When I took the ingredient from him, our fingers brushed, and I felt a small spark shoot through me. "Of course," I murmured, feeling strange and my finger still tingling.

He pointed at a shelf at the top of his stores, indicating where it went, although since he had already explained how the sections were organized, it was unnecessary.

Holding the ingredient, I climbed the ladder, although ha bit slowly and carefully. Since I only had use of one hand, it was rather hard, but the ladder was angled in a way where it was possible. I did have a slight fear of falling off the ladder, so my palms sudden began to sweat and I found it hard to breathe, but I wasn't too afraid. I could handle it, although my legs were shaking slightly. I would have preferred two hands, but I had seen Snape climb up and down this thing with the use of one hand several times, and he did it easily.

I put the ingredient where it went, and sighed. A few shelves above me, there was a bezoar. "There's a bezoar up here. What the hell?"

"One of the students must have put it with animal parts instead of the antidotes solutions."

I sighed. "Why do you let your students in here? Shouldn't' they were their own, or at least the ones in your class?"

"I suppose because I prefer an accident to happen in here than a classroom with students. Also, I do let them use the school supplies, however, sometimes, I run out of ingredients before I can make a trip to Diagon Alley, and they, therefore, use my own. Bring it down for me."

I raised my arms above my head. My arms were shorter than I expected, and my fingers tried to pry it from the shelves, while I stood on the ladder, stretching myself, my heavy, thick cloak getting caught underneath my toe. My heart started pattering against my ribs and my throat closed up, the paralyzing fear settling in just as the bezoars fell into my hands. My back arched when my legs buckled and tripped on the bottom of my cloak.

I screamed out just as I felt myself topple over. The ari rushed around my and my stomach was flipping and spinning, making me so nauseous the scream hitched in my throat and I went light-headed.

Then I stopped, very suddenly, but my head didn't smack against stone floor or wooden shelf. Vials didn't crash down around me. Nothing felt broken or bruised. Other than I felt like I might throw up and my head was spinning, I was fine.

And I was in Snape's arms.

The scent of him surrounded me, the scent I hadn't realized until tonight, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. He was stronger than I expected him to be. Because of his narrow frame, he had a somewhat frail appearance, but I could feel strength in those arms. His arms that were wrapped around my body, like his scent.

I expected some witty retort, or something sarcastic, but he remained silent. He just looked at me in his arms, almost expressionless. There was something in his eyes, though--something soft. Almost like he was concerned. His eyes grazed over my face, over my red hair, and then he looked at my mouth for a second. That made my heart leap.

My one arm was crushed between my side and his abdomen, so I moved it up and around the back of his neck, my other arm joining, so that my hand went up into his greasy hair. This position was far more comforting.

With one hand, he brushed away some of my hair that was along my face, some of it in my mouth and eyes. The tips of his fingers brushed along my cheek, then the back of his fingers travelled along my jaw line. When the slightly calloused pad of his thumb ran along my bottom lip, my back arched. He leaned forward and my throat went dry, very suddenly, and I went to meet his mouth with mine.

Then he shook his head and pulled away quickly. He managed to push me out of his arms in a way I landed on my feet, and I stumbled slightly. I looked at him, confused.

He suddenly went to concerned to annoyed. His lips curled into a sneer and he narrowed his eyes at me. "Try not to be a clumsy fool, Miss Kensith. I find it most tiresome having to take care of you as though you were an idiot child. I won't catch you again." Then he turned around and began focusing on the section he was working on.

Normally I would have asked him what his problem was, and I actually opened my mouth to do so, but then I did. I was thinking too hard on what had just happened. This time, there was no mistake. He had been about to kiss me. I felt oddly light at the thought of it. I'd never been kissed before, so I wondered mildly what it would have felt like if he had actually done it. But I knew that if he had, he would've broken a serious rule. Perhaps that was part of the reason why he got angry.

But I also looked like Lily, and so I knew he hadn't been wanting to kiss me. This angered me even more than him pulling away had.

I picked up the bezoar I had dropped when I fell, and clenched it in my fist, staring at his back. I opened my mouth to tell him it wasn't my fault I looked like Lily, but then I realized he would probably get really angry, and I was not in the mood for that at the moment.

God, had I changed so much that I didn't even want to get in an argument when I was mad? Why did I suddenly care about that?

I put the bezoar away, and we went about with our business, steadily going higher. Fuming at both what had happened and how I suddenly didn't feel like getting into an argument and goading him, I did it quietly. Working in close proximity in a cramped space seem to make the place hotter than necessary.

At first I thought about just sweating it out, but then when the heat became so unbearable I was rearranging my cloak every few seconds and it was really distracting, I decided to just take off my cloak. I was wearing green robes underneath that, of a thin and boring fabric, one that I would wear around the house if my mother was making me clean, but it was nice enough that I could wear to the store without people thinking I was trash. When I glanced at Snape, I noticed he had discarded his cloak as well, and was wearing his usual black.

Since we were taking turns going up the ladder to take care of the upper shelves, the one on the bottom had to wheel the ladder around in case the one on the top needed it on the other side. Other than us asking the other to move it, we weren't speaking. The silence hung over me awkwardly, wanting to discuss our almost-kiss, but I knew that doing so would be pointless, and so I kept my mouth shut, thinking of hundreds of arguments we could've gotten into by now, and regretting that I hadn't yelled at him when I originally wanted to.

After I moved the ladder over to where he specified, I noticed he rearranged some vials, then started back down. When he made it to the bottom of the ladder, he looked at me strangely. "You've changed your clothes."

"I've removed my cloak, like you. It was hot."

He nodded slowly. "You ability at climbing ladders has improved this last hour. Thus, I have decided to let you have the last go. Where were you before I came down?"

"Over there," I said, pointing at the area. "Your lacewing flies supply is a bit low."

"Is it?" He sounded confused.

I nodded, looking away form him. I didn't want to look at him at the moment. I was still mad at him pulling away and thinking of me as Lily. I didn't like being through of as someone I wasn't--enough people already saw my mother when they saw me. I didn't need him seeing another person added to that. I don't know why it bothered me suddenly, when it hadn't bothered me so much before.

I walked over to the lacewing flies, and I pointed them out to him. Since they were on the bottom shelf, I had to get on my hands and knees. He joined me, our heads too close for comfort, and judging by the way he cleared his throat, he thought so too.

"See? Look, you don't have very many."

"That is quite odd. I just replenished my store a few weeks ago." He furrowed his brows while he recounted them.

I flopped onto my stomach, the cool stone shocking me for a second, but it actually felt nice compared to the heat. He stared at me for a moment. I looked him over curiously. My Head of House was a very strange man. He was intelligent, so that pointed to Ravenclaw, and he hadn't kissed me although he had every chance to, which showed nobility somewhat, which was a Gryffindor trait. "How long did it take for you to be Sorted?"

"A few seconds, perhaps. I believe the hat said though I was intelligent like a Ravenclaw, I often used it to manipulate a situation. Why do you ask?"

I shrugged. He was on his stomach now, almost in a relaxed position, with his chin resting on his arms, which were folded on the floor. He was eyeing the lacewings flies still, and I noticed he was counting the ingredients around it.

"I don't know. The Hat didn't take long for me either. He said I wanted to prove myself more powerful than my mother; better than her. I guess it was right."

He didn't say anything after that. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration while he looked at the low number of lacewing flies.

"But, I'm not like a lot of the other Slytherins," I stated.

His black eyes slid over to me. "How do you mean?"

"Well, a lot of them--not all, but a lot--hate muggle-born kids. Draco made a crack about my mum before I came in here. I don't like her either, but because of other reasons. I'm just accepted because I'm a half-blood, and my mother . . . Well, she's less than that, but she . . . I think he problem was she cared too much what people thought, and she was friends with Bellatrix and Narcissa Black, mostly to get with Sirius, and the sort of . . . Well, brainwashed her into think she was worthless because of her blood, and she hated her own and pretended she was pure. I don't care about things like that. A lot of them do. I don't care, though, I mean, it's their opinion, right? Just as long as they don't start harassing 'em, I don't mind. But I still don't think blood matters." His black eyes slid away form me and went back over to the lacewing flies. "Does it matter to you?"

"No. It doesn't make a difference." He frowned slightly. "When I was younger, I wasn't sure what to think. The only person ever kind to me, besides Mother of course, was a muggle-born girl. Yet, I was also friends with those who despised muggle-borns. I was torn. Eventually I convinced myself that she was an anomaly and the only one of her kind worthwhile . . . But I know differently now."

I nodded, then put my chin on my folded arms, like he did. I was feeling rather sleepy, probably because of all the work we had just done, and this position was actually comfortable. I was still angry with him, but not enough to get snappy .it was more of a dull anger in the back of my mind, but it was easily ignored.

We lied there for a moment, every now and then looking at each other, but the silence wasn't awkward.

I thought of how hard it must be to have me around him, looking like Lily, the girl he loved, and I wondered if perhaps she was the friend he'd talked about. But that didn't make much sense, since Snape had killed his friend, and you-Know-Who had killed Lily. Unless it was a different Lily, and it wasn't my eyes that was familiar, since Harry had the same ones . . . I wished I didn't look like her, so that he wouldn't be nice to me one second then rude the next. That way he wouldn't' have almost kissed me.

"Professor?"

"Hmm?" he hummed, a bit tiredly.

"You know that night you rescued me from the dementors?"

He nodded awkwardly, since his chin was on his arms. "Of course I remember. You have a way of endangering yourself as I happen by."

I snorted and rolled my eyes. "Anyway . . ." I considered telling him I knew he'd hugged me and called me Lily, but then I changed my mind. That conversation would be too weird. "I didn't expect your patronus to be a doe. I always thought you were more of a panther."

"I suppose that would be a more likely patronus."

I frowned as I thought about it for a moment. "Well, I guess a doe is very elegant and there is something alluring about it, so maybe it makes _some_ sense."

He let out a quiet scoff. "Alluring?" he repeated.

"Captivating, mesmerizing, whatever."

He shook his head slightly. "You are very odd."

"What? And like _you're_ the poster boy for normalcy?" He just narrowed his eyes at me. I smiled at him, and eyes how his lank hair flopped onto the stone floor, making curtains around his face. "That's why I was looking at you in the first Potions class. I liked how you talked. You do have a good voice. So I was staring at you. But I didn't have a crush on you then, so that's why I said I wasn't paying attention. But I guess you knew I was paying attention."

"Didn't have a crush on me _then?_ Interesting word choice."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, ignoring how my heart rate quickened. "You know what I meant. I wasn't staring at you 'cause I had a crush on you, I was just . . . very interested. Mesmerized."

One side of his mouth twitched. I smiled back at him.

Before this got awkward, I sighed and got on my knees, stretching my arms above me head and popping my back, which thrust my chest out a bit. He barely glanced at my chest then looked away a bit shamefully. "I guess we'd better finish this."

He nodded and stood just as I did. I started over to the ladder, but he grabbed my wrist. I looked at him, confused at why he had stopped me. He plucked a vial off of a shelf and handed it to me. "Would you put this where it belongs, Lily?"

My stomach seemed to hit the ground. I don't know what I felt when he called me Lily, anger or depression, but it wasn't very pleasant.

I took the vial from him and felt my eyes start to burn. He didn't seem to know what he'd said. I nodded at him, then brushed my hair out of my face as I hurried to the ladder, trying not to let tears fall down my cheeks. I felt bad for him.

"Miss Kensith," he said when I stepped on the bottom rung.

I turned around. "Yes?" My voice cracked slightly.

"Would you put this where it belongs, _Miss Kensith,"_ he said again, obviously correcting himself.

I didn't' want to look at his tortured expression, so I quickly went up the ladder and put it where it belonged, careful not to fall again.

We finished rather quickly, since there wasn't much left to do, and then he started walking me towards the Slytherin common room, so I wouldn't get in trouble walking around after curfew. It had taken longer than it had felt.

We made it to the Slytherin portrait. I said the password, surreptitious, and then nodded at him.

"Why didn't you correct me?" he asked before I could walk into the common room.

I shrugged, feeling my heart ache. It actually ached. A dull pain was in my chest, right where my heart was, and my eyes were starting to get watery, so that it was hard to see him clearly, since it was also dark. I wished he hadn't called me Lily.

"I don't know," I answered quietly. I also really wished I could've said something epic, like a monologue of some wonderful, great reason, but I couldn't. I really didn't know why I hadn't corrected him. I really didn't know why I didn't call him on the fact he almost kissed me, either.

He nodded once, then left.

That night I had a hard time falling asleep. Tears ran down my face silently, and I didn't know why.


	8. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Undeserving

Detention with McGonagall was never pleasant. She always made me write lines. I hated writing lines. And since McGonagall was in an even worse mood than usual, I had to write more lines than I usually did. McGonagall had never really liked me. I think my mother was a disappointment to her, since my mother was a Gryffindor. I didn't know if McGonagall knew she was a Death Eater, but even if she didn't know, my mother was still unpleasant.

Perhaps it was wrong of me, but I continued to hex Millicent Bulstrode and her little pals. Nothing serious, just a Tripping Jinx, or Jelly-Legs, or something else rather trivial. Maybe that was considered bullying, but I didn't care. I didn't plan on doing it the rest of my life, either, just until I felt I got my revenge. Maybe until Christmas. Snape had seen me do a Tripping Jinx in the Great Hall, and he gave me a detention like I knew he would. However, he didn't seem to want to spend extra time with me, and he gave me to McGonagall.

Snape was being mean to me. Not as mean as he had been, but he was making his snide comments again. And of course I would rise to the occasion and snap back, but the arguments wouldn't last long. I would get a few sentences in then I would shut up.

In the back of my mind, I remembered Lupin saying the only reason he let me get more than a sentence or two in was because he liked me, and now that I wasn't able to . . . It actually bothered me. So Snape didn't like me anymore. Hell, even when we were arguing every single class, he had liked me. Now we couldn't even argue.

When I finished writing my lines, I gathered up my things and started to leave. I stopped, then turned back to her. I don't know what had made me think of it, probably because everyone had been talking about Harry and the thought of Harry naturally led me to think of Lily so she had been on my mind lately. "McGonagall?"

"Yes?" She looked at me curiously.

"Do you . . . Do you have any pictures of Lily Potter? You know, when she was in school? Coloured ones, not black-and-white?"

She narrowed he eyes briefly. She didn't think I was trustworthy. What would I do with a picture? "Why would you need one?"

"Why is it an issue?" I asked her, immediately defensive. She just raised her eyebrow. "Because . . . Maybe I look up to her. Since Harry's, uh, the fourth champion, people have been talking about him a lot, and I know Lily's his mum, and . . . Well, I just want to know what she looked like." She was staring at me still. "Look, I'll get it somehow, whether or not it's from you. I could always go ask Snape, but that's not a discussion I want to have. So do you?"

"You look up to her?"

"Well, yeah. She died protecting her son. Everyone knows that. How could you not look up to that?"

Was it just me, or did her eyes look a little wet? "I don't have any, no. Severus might, but like you said, I'm sure that isn't anything you want to discuss. The library will, of course." She smiled very briefly at me. "Her maiden name was Evans."

I nodded. "Thanks, Professor McGonagall. Oh, and I'm not just saying this because you're Head of Gryffindor, but I hope Harry does well in the tournament. Oh, yeah, and I don't think he cheated his way into the tournament either."

Her lips pursed slightly. "I find it rather strange a Slytherin such as yourself has so much faith in the boy. You're not trying to impress me, are you?"

"No. I don't really care what you think about me, to be honest. Just, the way Snape talks about him, I just don't think he's smart enough to fool Dumbledore's spells. I think few people would be. I respect him, is all. He got rid of You-Know-Who didn't he? Why would anyone hate that?"

She regarded me closely for a moment. She reminded me of Snape in a way. Strict, calculating, but, well, McGonagall was not quite as mean. She was like a nicer version of Snape. Only her class was far less interesting and a bit harder.

"I understand. I suppose you would not ask about his mother if you did not respect him. You're also right about Dumbledore--he is far too intelligent for a boy to outsmart him." I nodded a bit smugly. "But much of what Snape says about him is untrue."

"I never said I talked to Snape. Everyone knows he doesn't like Harry, and I've read a few of Harry's essays. Snape and I don't really get along. It's not like I have deep discussions with him."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "I never said you two were close."

I had sounded rather defensive. I rolled my eyes. "Well, some of the kids in my house thought we were, you know . . . But we're not. He doesn't even like me. I'm sorry, I just . . . Well, if you'd had that rumour spread about you and been teased and humiliated, then you would've been a bit defensive too."

"Understandable. I am sure there have been rumours about us, but I try not to let them bother me."

I furrowed me eyebrows. "Rumours about you and Snape?" She nodded in an offhand way. "No, there really aren't rumours about you two. Mostly there are rumours about you and Dumbledore."

She let out one, airy chuckle and shook her head. "The rumours about Snape and me are far more likely to be true than that. Good day."

I wondered what that was about. Maybe her and Snape were together. I scowled a bit. I did not like the thought of them together. I liked the idea of her and Dumbledore far more. In fact, thinking of her and Snape made my lips purse and me a little annoyed. I left her classroom, thinking about what she had said. Did she admit the rumours were true, or did she just say she didn't like Dumbledore? She seemed to like Dumbledore, and she didn't seem to like Snape at all. Maybe she just thought Snape was attractive. I laughed at that. Who would think Snape attractive? But maybe she did. That annoyed me even more.

The next day, I went to the library. The librarian wasn't that helpful. I asked if she had any pictures of Lily Evans, and she said I would have to check for myself, and pointed at the sections where the newspaper clippings and old photos taken by students were. Even some yearbooks.

It took me quite a long time, but since she was in my mother's year I knew around which time she graduated. There was one news clipping announcing her marriage to James Potter. Much to my disappointment, it was black-and-white. James looked extremely similar to Harry, so similar I could see someone mistaking him for his father.

Lily did look very similar to me. It was strange, considering I wasn't related to her. I couldn't tell if she had the same eye colour as I did though, but she had the same shape. I had the same eye shape as my mother, although not the same colour. My mother's eyes were a vivid hazel and my dad's eyes were a dull green. I guess I got the green from my dad and the shape and vividness from my mum. Out mouths were similar, from my mum, and I had the same shape of head, from my dad. We had a different body type, though. She looked taller than I was, and perhaps a bit thinner as well. Our faces were similar, with the exception that her nose was straight and thin, and I had one of those button noses that always gave me a childlike expression I thought. Sure, my head was a bit rounder than hers, whereas her was a bit longer, but hers still rounded. No wonder Snape looked at me like that. Sure, Harry looked more like James than I looked like Lily, but I could have been her sister.

I looked around for some more. I found her yearbook picture of when she was a fifth year, like me, and I felt a bit queasy. Although her face was more oval-like than mine, and her hair was wavy whereas mine was straight, it was almost like looking into a picture. I looked around myself, then I replicated the picture with a spell, and kept that too.

I wish I could find a coloured one.

While I searched, I thought about McGonagall and what she had said about Snape. The two of the together made me sick. Snape shouldn't be with her. He should be with . . . I don't know, but someone else. But then why would McGonagall have her and Snape was more likely than her and Dumbledore?

And there it was. A coloured picture. My heart almost gave out. She had red hair _and_ green eyes. In the picture, she was with Snape. She was laughing about something and waving up at me, While Snape had a smile on his face and seemed to be talking with her. Snape looked even more frail than he did now, but he seemed to be happy with her. Lily wrapped her arms around him in a hug, then looked at me again. She was slender, whereas I was curvy, and her hair had perfect waves. Mine was boring and straight. Still, we looked like we could be sisters.

So her and Snape looked friendly together. Real friendly. They had been friends. But she still couldn't be the one he was talking about, because You-Know-Who had killed Lily. Snape had told me himself that it was his fault his friend was dead.

I went over to an empty table and sat the pictures in front of me. I stared at the coloured one, at her and Snape acting friendly, and at her thick red hair, and her green eyes, and her oval face. She was prettier than I was, I thought, but God, how was this possible? I'd heard of people looking like someone they didn't know before, but this . . . I could hardly believe it. Perhaps I was somehow related to her. It was possible, I guess, for one to be related and not know it . . . Her maiden name, Evans, didn't sound the least bit familiar to me . . . But still, it was possible. Then again, it was also possible for someone to look similar and not be related. Draco Malfoy looked very similar to a kid I used to know in primary school, but they weren't related in any way. In fact, when I saw the kid in primary school, I thought it _was_ Draco for a day or two, until I noticed he was actually very kind to those around him, and then I saw that his eyes were blue and his chin was rounder.

I stared at the pictures of her. I wonder how many people stared at me and thought of her? Probably most of the teachers. Everyone seemed to like her. For some reason it felt wrong to look like her.

Someone sat down beside me. I looked up and saw Draco. His grey eyes focused on the pictures. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

I grabbed the pictures and put them in my bag. "Nothing. Just looking at pictures."

"So how did detention with McGonagall go yesterday? She's always a right little prat to me."

"She made me write lines. I hate writing lines. All because I did a Tripping Jinx on Millicent. She deserved it."

Draco shrugged. "Well, you've been punishing her enough. I like it. Some people think they can get away with whatever they want. You're finally picking up a few tips, aren't you? I'd do the same if I were you. Hell, I'd do the same for less."

"It's not like I'm bullying her or anything," I defended.

"I didn't say you were. Honestly, you need to quit being so defensive."

I sneered at him. "So . . . What are you doing here, Draco?"

"Homework. It's due tomorrow and I haven't started on it, so I'll be working all night. I got so angry with it I threw my quill across the library and got in trouble when you were off looking through all those old news clippings. But I told her I'd do what I wanted, and it wasn't like I threw it at her. She's such an old bat." He rolled his eyes.

"What class is it for?"

He scoffed. "Defence Against the Dark Arts, what else? Moody has a thing against me, I know it. That crazy git doesn't have any sense to him, I swear. I'm probably the best student in that class. Even Crabbe and Goyle can tell he doesn't like me, and they're not the brightest. Pansy didn't want to help me study and she was talking my ear off and trying to snog me, so I had to tell her to leave. It's a wonder I get anything done. But it can't be helped that I'm the most attractive male in the school." He sighed like it was a great burden for him, but I could tell he liked the attention. In my opinion, he wasn't even that attractive, but I guess he wasn't bad. Still, he had an ego.

"Moody doesn't seem to like me either."

"Oh great," he murmured. When I gave him a questioning glance, he looked over his shoulder. Hermione Granger and Harry Potter were walking in. "I'm leaving. Come with me. You can help me with my homework."

He grabbed his parchment from off the table. When he walked past Hermione and Harry, he spat out a word that sounded suspiciously like 'mudblood' and continued on his way to me, smirking. The two Gryffindors seemed to ignore him.

We walked down the halls, him with that swagger of his. He glared at a few people who walked by. "I hate that filthy mudblood. She's the worst type--thinks she's special just because she's got some brains. All the teachers favour her, you know."

I chuckled. "It couldn't possibly be because she's smart, can it?"

He shoved me a little, but not as hard as he could have. I shoved him back, albeit somewhat playfully. When he pushed me again, I turned to him and narrowed my eyes. "Are you challenging me to a duel?" I asked with a raised eyebrow, but smiling slightly.

He scoffed. "Why, yes, I suppose I am."

At the same time, we both whipped out our wands. Instead of cursing, though, we just pretended they were swords, and began smacking them against each other, pretending to fence. Typically enough, Draco's fake-fencing looked a bit believable, while mien looked absolutely fake. Oh well. He was rich.

Draco could be silly, as long as certain people weren't around. As far as I knew, anyway. I didn't really know him when he was around others, just when it was him and me. I managed to jab him in the chest with my wand. "I win," I stated haughtily, smirking.

I started walking off. I heard him mutter something, but before I could decipher it, I tripped over something and fell flat on my face. Draco started laughing. "No, looks like I do."

I shot him with a Tripping Jinx and he fell on his face too. He then tried to wrestle my wand out of my hand, but I was fighting him off. Before too long, we were wrestling on the floor, our his breath quick and hot on me. His face was screwed up with concentration and the traces of enjoyment. We weren't hurting each other. Other than it being slightly uncomfortable, it didn't hurt. It wasn't like he was trying to hurt me, and I wasn't trying to hurt him.

With our legs tangled, we kept wrestling. Until we heard footsteps on the stone floor. We both looked to see who it was. "What is this? More fighting?"

It was Snape. Draco practically jumped off of me and I slowly stood up, blushing. I realized how immature it was for me to be play-wrestling at age fifteen with a fourteen-year-old. "We weren't really fighting, sir," Draco explained hastily.

"Yeah, we were just . . . playing. Really. We weren't hurting each other."

"We were getting along, professor," Draco promised, in that oily tone of his.

He regarded both of us. "Five points to each of you for your congeniality." It almost made me laugh. Really, and Snape pretended he wasn't biased.

"You dropped your pictures," Draco informed, then turned on his heel and continued on his way to the common room.

I looked around, and saw that Snape had bent over to pick them up. I tried to get to the before he did, but I wasn't' fast enough. He held all three of them in his hands, staring at them. I was right--the intensity he stared at me with, those mixture of emotions, were directed towards her and not me. I wish he would stare at me like that. Not at me thinking of Lily, but at me thinking of me. I was jealous .I was jealous of Lily Evans/Potter, and earlier I had been jealous of McGonagall. Why, though? That was a stupid thing to feel, really.

I reached forward to take them from him, but he jerked his hand away.

"Why do you have these?"

I considered lying. I considered telling him they were for an essay in history. But I realized that he would probably know I was lying, since we always learned about wars in history. We wrote essays about incidents and goblins, not people, and especially not ones so close to our generation. "I wanted to kwno what she looked like."

"Why?" he asked, though he kept his eyes on the pictures.

I shifted uncomfortably. "Because . . . um . . ."

"Why did you want to know what she looked like, Miss Kensith?"

I shifted uncomfortably again. I looked around the hallway, praying that someone would walk down the hall and interrupt this discussion. I prayed for Draco to come back, saying he'd forgotten something, or Peeves to drop something on us. Alas, nothing happened.

"It's complicated. Can I just have them back?"

He glanced at me, then put the pictures in his robes. "You may not, until you tell me what is so important about Lily Evans."

"She's Harry's mother. It think she's brave and I wanted to learn more about her. It isn't a crime." I lied rather well. I think it came with being a Slytherin.

"You lie. We will discuss this in my office."

With a bowed head, I followed him to his office, and though we were near the library and his office was in the dungeons, it took hardly any time at all.

"Sit."

I obeyed.

"Explain."

I did not want to do this.

I took in a deep sigh, then look down at my knees in shame. I hadn't done anything wrong, but Snape had a way of making me feel like I had. Resolved, I looked at him, trying not to seem like I was feeling guilty of anything. "I already told you, I wanted to know what she looked like."

"Why would you want to know that?"

When had I decided I needed to know what she looked like? And when, exactly, did I realize I resembled her? I thought hard, and then I remembered when it had happened. "You remember when Lupin told me I reminded you of someone? Well, that day, you told me that Harry's mum was named Lily, and I knew that it was her I reminded you of."

"Anyone could have corrected you. Me doing so does not imply you resemble her. Did Lupin tell you who it was?"

"No, Lupin didn't say a name." He stared at me expectantly. I felt like darting out of the room, but I knew he would never let me. "Fine, fine, okay, I'll tell you the whole story, but you can't get mad at me, okay?"

"I cannot promise that."

I sighed and folded my arms. I did not want to talk about this. I had promised I would never bring it up. "Fine. Fine. I'll tell you. Remember when you saved me from the dementors?" He nodded slowly. "Well, I woke up, and you were . . . You were touching my face and you hugged me and called me Lily. And I could tell you loved her by the way you said it. Happy?" I snapped. I noticed I spoke rather quickly, and my cheeks burned slightly.

Snape did not seemed pleased.

"I didn't know who she was, but then you corrected me, and I knew you loved Harry's mum, and I knew something about me resembled her . . . I thought it was the eyes, because Harry has green eyes, but I had no idea . . . And then, when I had that detention and I fell off the ladder . . ." I didn't want to finish the sentence. I knew he knew what I was going to say, but I didn't want to. "I asked McGonagall if she had pictures and she said she didn't but the library would."

He still didn't say anything. His face was resolutely still. It was stone. I couldn't read him. I couldn't see a single emotion.

"I didn't do anything wrong, Professor."

I didn't move. I wanted to bolt from my chair. I wanted to do . . . something. But I couldn't. Instead I sat there, staring at his curiously blank face. Finally he closed his lids and let out a long sigh. "Lily Evans was the most beautiful, courageous, perfect woman to ever grace my presence; my existence. I loved her. I love her still."

Oh God. This was awkward. I really regretted not running out of this classroom now. Having Snape talk about love was not something I wanted to endure. Not because it disgusted me, but because I knew how the story went, and it would depress me. She married James, not him, then died, and that was not happy.

No one had ever talked to me about love. Mother had talked to me about love to the 'Dark Lord' as she called him, but that was more like love of a religious figure to her. Disturbingly, he was her Jesus. But actual love? I had never heard anyone speak of it. Snape was not one I wanted to hear it from. It wasn't bound to be happy.

I shifted in the chair uncomfortably. No, no, no. I did not want to hear this. I wanted Snape to never speak of love. I didn't want him to feel sad or vulnerable.

"She never wronged me, and I . . . wronged her. I did not deserve her. Neither did Potter, but life is not fair. It never will be." He opened his eyes finally, and they were moist. "I lost her. Several times. She, rightfully, abandoned me, then she married that ungrateful Potter--I doubt he ever truly understood how perfect she was, how lucky he was, what a jewel he possessed--and then . . ."

I knew very well what happened next. She died.

He made a face of pure anguish, and I saw his tears slowly slide down his face. "You are a living reminder of her, not that I could ever forget. A reminder of what I could not have, a reminder of what I lost--what _I_ lost for _my_ foolishness . . ." He took in a deep, shaky breath. "It was an accident . . . But that is no excuse. I called her, my only true friend, my muggle-born friend, a . . ."

I nodded solemnly, pursing my lips together. I knew what he had called her. He didn't have to tell me, but I knew.

"I tried to persuade the Dark Lord to spare her . . . Selfish, I know, I cared nothing for _him_ or the child. I was still young and foolish."

He put his fingers to his temples and pressed them tightly, closing his eyes. "Had I not . . . Had I not told him of . . . He chose them because of me. I killed her."

I was crying too, but also silently.

There was a long silence, with him pressing his fingers against his temples, wetness leaking from underneath his closed lids. "He offered her life. She chose death, to protect her son."

I sat there, not knowing what to do. I felt . . . horrible. I looked just like his beloved, like the girl who never loved him back, and it must be torture for him, seeing Lily, seeing the girl whose death he blamed on him. No wonder he had fluctuating mood swings when it came to me.

After another long silence, I sighed shakily.

"I'm sorry I look like her. I don't deserve to."

I really didn't. She was brave. She had given up her life for someone else. I didn't know if I could ever do that. She was precious. She had been kind to Snape. I had never been kind to him. I was easily angered and selfish and bullied Millicent Bulstrode constantly and manipulated situations to get my way. I sought arguments consciously. I was a bit of an attention seeker. How could I compare to that? Why did I look like her? I didn't deserve to share the face of that brave woman.

He opened his eyes and looked at me. He actually looked at me. There was an emotion in his eyes I couldn't place, but looked a bit familiar, and it was directed at me. He opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it.

He reached into his robes, pulled out the pictures, and tossed them on the desk. "As I promised. Take them and get out."

I did so quickly.

Later on I looked at the coloured picture and watched as Lily and Snape spoke quietly on the grass to each other, Lily laughing, and pulling him into a hug. They both turned to me and smiled. Well, Snape half-smiled, but she full-on grinned.

After all the torture I had put Snape through, arguing with him, and the torture I'd put others through--Millicent wasn't the first person I'd bullied to take my bad days out on, now than I thought about it--I still looked like her. Lupin said he'd seen a spark of her in me, but I couldn't tell what it would be. Perhaps she'd been outgoing. Perhaps she liked to talk a lot. She had been the epitome of perfection, and I was horribly flawed. I didn't even write notes. My mother had told me 'Evans' had always been a good student, and I couldn't even do that.

Resembling her was a trophy I had stolen, and I regretted something I could not help.

* * *

A/N-- BTW, for those of you who didn't get why McGonagall said her and Snape was more likely than her and Dumbledore, it's because JK Rowling stated that Dumbledore is gay. I, personally, respect this entirely. Dumbledore is the same man to me. Gay, straight, bi, it's all the same to me. We are all people with unique personalities, and Dumbledore's personality was wonderful, and I base my opinion of him on that. My best friend is gay, so obviously I really don't care.

My brother, you know, the one who said he wanted to castrate Harry, is also fond of saying "You know Snape was gettin' mad psy. So was Dumbledore." He laughed his bum off when we found out Dumbledore was gay, and has now revised his saying to "mad man-psy." Sorry if this disturbs you. It makes me laugh. He's a kidder.

Also, my brother's birthday is June 5th, 1992. Which gives him the same birthday as Draco Malfoy. Draco was born in 1980, which makes him a monkey, the same as my brother. I always thought they were similar, so this is funny to me.

Sorry to digress into my personal thoughts and insights and life, but at least I added it after the story instead of in it.


	9. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Who I Am . . . Not

The very next day, decided I was going to change. I was no longer going to bully people, I was going to take notes, and I wasn't going to manipulate situations to get what I want. I wasn't going to shy away form people because I knew they were talking behind my back, I wasn't going to start arguments anymore, and I wasn't going to be selfish. I was going to think of others. I was going to become friends with Harry, Hermione, and Ron, because they were Gryffindors and good guys. And I certainly wasn't going to become friends with them simply because Harry was famous. I was going to be worthy of such a face. I wanted to make Lily Evans/Potter proud, and Snape wouldn't have to be disgusted with me ,and hate that someone as unworthy as I looked like his beloved.

Of course, that attitude lasted about a month.

The first week, my notes were thorough. I wrote almost everything down, and I sat on the edge of my seat, and actually rose my hand to answer questions instead of waiting with my hand down to be called on. Then by the second week, I rarely wrote anything down and stopped raising my hand. By the middle of the third week, I didn't write notes anymore, telling myself I would remember it anyway. Besides, my grades were average, and that probably wasn't the first thing I needed to change anyway. I was now not even paying attention in the slightest.

I went two weeks without hexing Millicent Bulstrode, but when I saw her in a crowd of boys, I couldn't stop myself, and cursed her so her hair went pink and her skin went the colour of puke green. I had momentarily forgotten I wasn't going to bully her anymore.

I waved at Harry a few days ago and tried going over and talking to him, but then I realized Draco was watching me strangely, and decided I'd rather not. I didn't' want Draco avoiding me, since he was the closest thing I had to a friend. I guess that was selfish. A few times before that, I had had plenty of opportunities to go and strike up a conversation when I was alone, but decided I didn't want to and just nodded at him. Whenever there were other people around, I wanted to go up and show off that I could talk to the Famous Harry Potter, which sort of ruined the whole point of me becoming friends with him, since I wanted it to be for some other reason than selfishness.

I snapped at Hagrid and made fun of him simply because I hadn't got much sleep the night before. I felt bad when the kids laughed. I blew off my Charms homework and told Flitwick I wasn't planning on doing it so he shouldn't give me any extra days and smirked at him. I called Trelawney a fraud to her face and made fun of her voice, so that people would laugh at me. I got into an argument with McGonagall because she said something that I disagreed with, but she was probably right now that I think on it, and I got a detention (with Snape, who was actually the last person I wanted a detention with, but it was set for next week) and then I made a joke and showed off in front of everyone. Not to mention the several times I had done something simply to get the attention of the people in my house who didn't even really like me anyway and only pretended to because I was now popular, thanks to Draco.

I even flirted with Blaise Zabini so he would do my Transfiguration essay for me.

Dammit. I didn't realize how disagreeable I was until I decided not to be disagreeable. It was harder than I thought it was going to be. I guess I could start all over again.

It was the beginning of December, and I had come to the conclusion that the harder I tried to change, the further I regressed. In fact, it seemed like I was being my disagreeable self more often, but probably just because I was noticing it. Still, I don't ever remember being that selfish or manipulative. I didn't remember getting into arguments and being rude to that many teachers. And I had always done my own homework, too. Still, that counted as manipulation, and I know I had done that before.

Walking through the halls, I thought of something I could do. Then I wondered if doing good things because I wanted to change was considered selfish or manipulative. But then, how does one change without consciously doing it? Maybe I couldn't. I had never tried to be someone other than myself before. Maybe I was trying to hard to be someone else. Maybe that was untrue. Or maybe I was just trying to hard. Perhaps I should pick one quality to work on?

No, it was untrue to myself. I should probably just accept myself for who I was and get over it. That didn't mean I couldn't be a bit nicer.

I read somewhere that a good deed only counts if it is done out of the goodness of someone's heart. But how does one do a good deed purely out of concern for someone else? How does one not do it for a somewhat selfish purpose? If someone does a good deed simply because he thinks he should do it, or because he is consciously looking for ways to do good deeds, doesn't that count as selfish, since it was done for himself in a way? And wouldn't that also be manipulative, since he was looking for it in the first place, and did it to fulfil his own needs?

I heard shouts somewhere in the hall, and I looked in the direction I heard them. Blaise, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle, and Nott were teasing some little first year boy. I noticed they did that often. I tried not to get involved. If that was how they wanted to spend their time, then so be it. Normally I would walk off and pretend I didn't see anything, but every now and then I would comfort the kid afterwards.

But really, when I thought about it, they were being really immature. Picking on a kid three years younger than them.

I stormed up to them. "Draco, what are you doing?" I demanded.

"This kid had the _nerve_ to say I should support Harry Potter! To think, me, supporting that fake champion?" He pushed the kid backwards. He was rather small for being eleven, but then again, I thought most kids younger than me looked younger than I had at that age. Usually when I looked at my pictures, though, I found I really had looked that young.

"Well, he's mean to him! Did you see what he did with the dragon? Anyone who can do that should get some respect! And he got rid of You-Know-Who!" he spat, standing straight and giving him a look most would not dare give to an older student, much less a Slytherin, and much, much less, Draco Malfoy.

Crabbe and Goyle laughed knowingly, then Blaise and Draco shared a look. Nott scoffed. Nott shot a snake out of his wand, and it slithered around the boy's feet.

"Evanesco!" I shouted, making the snake disappear.

"What do you think you're doing?" Nott demanded, standing at his full height, pointing his wand at me.

I wanted to back down. In fact, I started to. Then I saw how the kid had several singed holes in his robes, and the bottoms of his robes were burned away and ragged. I felt bad for the kid.

"You should leave him alone."

Blaise looked at the rest of the crowd and they seemed just as confused as he was. Normally I would have just walked off and comforted the kid later if I saw him, but having been teased and mocked because of people thinking I had been sleeping with Snape, I found I couldn't stand there anymore, no matter how scared I was of them. I'd let it happen twice since the rumours started (and had now stopped--mostly) and felt sick afterwards both times. And the kid actually looked in pain.

Blaise wrapped is arm around my shoulder. "Look, Danielle, we're just having a bit of fun. He really should learn to respect his elders."

I pushed his arm off of me.

Draco stepped forward and smirked smugly. "Yeah, Danielle, the little bugger actually came up to me and said I should be nicer to Scarhead. Told me to stop flashing my badges. He shouldn't tell me what to think. He needs to respect his superiors." He flipped the collars of his robes as he said that and cocked his head back. "Think of it as punishment. Like with Millicent."

"That was different. She Vanished my clothes." But had it really been that different? Yes, of course it had . . . But then I continued hexing her . . . "I don't care who you support, Draco ,really, but he's got his opinions too."

"Why do you care so suddenly?" Draco asked, giving me a look-over.

Nott sneered. "You're starting to think you're better than us. Just 'cause you got a couple of friends doesn't mean you can tell us how to live."

"Seriously, guys, stop acting lie immature prats and just let it go, all right? I'm asking nicely. It's not hard."

Draco sneered. "You think you so much better than us, don't you? What, just because you've acting got guts now you think you can take on us? Is that what it is?" He took a few steps forward and looked down on me .He was actually a bit intimidating. Not as intimidating as Snape, but he did have four people standing behind him, and unlike Snape, I knew Draco would hurt me. "Just because you've gotten a taste of power doesn't mean you can use it on us. You think you're so much better than the rest of us Slytherins, I don't know why, but you're not."

I seriously considered just raising up my hands and walking off. My heart was thudding so hard in my chest I could feel it vibrating in my throat. It was starting to get rather hot, too. But I saw that small kid looking at me expectantly, signed and weak and helpless, and I remembered what it was like when everyone teased me, and how I had wished for someone to come and stop it. "I didn't say I was better than you, I just said leave him alone."

"You know what it is? You don't think you're like us. You're think you're special--different. Well ,guess what, Danielle? You're just like us. I saw you waving at potter--you want to be like him? Wanna be a Gryffindor? Well you're not. You're one of us, and you're just like us, so get over it. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some punishing to do."

They all sniggered at me. I wasn't like them. I didn't hate muggleborns. But had I ever really let them know? Or did I just let them think I agreed? I shook my head. I wasn't like them. I suppose it shouldn't have hurt my feelings like it had, but it did, and that made me angry. I didn't want to be anything lie them. I didn't want to be bullying, manipulative, selfish bastards. But . . . I was, wasn't I? That made me feel even worse. How did Draco know exactly what I didn't want to hear?

"Draco, just back off, okay? Quit being such a bullying prat."

They all sniggered at me standing up to him again, probably because my voice wavered slightly when he gave me his infamous glare. "Not the best thing to say to me," he drawled, in that bored, yet threatening, tone of his. He turned back to me and sneered. "You know what, Mother Theresa? Watch this." He shot something at the boy, muttered a spell I didn't catch, and the boy was covered in boils.

"Stop it!" I shouted. "Fix him!"

"Why don't you, since you're so motherly and caring?" The other laughed. "Why don't you go be a Gryffindor like him, then. Be a weak, impulsive, attention-seeking scarhead lover." He pushed me a bit rougher than he had ever pushed me before, but not as hard as I knew he could have.

The five of them walked off, but I noticed Draco stayed a bit behind them for a second to stare at me in confusion, before he rushed his way to the front, leading them lie always.

Honestly, that boy was infuriating.

I turned to the boy, who was whimpering. Some of the boils had already burst, and blood and puss was dripping from the wounds. I didn't' mean to look so repulsed, but I did, and I even made a disgusted noise in the back of my throat.

"I'll take you to the hospital wing. What's your name?" I said quickly, hoping he'd forget I'd been disgusted by what he looked like for a moment.

"I'm Dennis. But I don't need help, I know how to get there, and you wouldn't want to carry me, 'cause that would hurt more. Thanks though," he managed through his whimpers.

I stepped right next to him. "But I can walk you there, for comfort, and to tell Madame Pomfrey what happened.

He shifted a little. "Um . .. No offence, really, but I don't' want to show up with a girl when I already have to tell her a girl saved me." He winced when another popped.

I didn't understand. Then I understood. Pride. Pride was important to a lot of people, and him being a Gryffindor, it was probably even more so. I nodded. "Yeah, okay. But if I find out you didn't go, you'll have me to deal with, okay?" I half-joked.

He nodded, the trudged along, obviously in more pain with each step he took.

I turned back around, seething about Draco. But he was right, and that's what hurt the most. Now that the ordeal was over, I had to get back to thinking of easier ways for me to do something good. It really was hopeless. I couldn't change. Not if I was like them, and I was. But there had ot be something I could do to get myself worthy of this body . . .

"That was quite noble of you," I heard Snape say as he stepped out of a shadowy corner I didn't even realize was there.

I jumped slightly. We hadn't talked since that night. Well, not really. He had gotten irritated with me a few times in class like before, but now he didn't let me get a word in. usually I just found myself doing as he said. It only proved further that he hated me and hated how I looked like Lily. What had I don't to make him hate me? I liked it better when he liked me, as Lupin had said.

"Not really. I did what anyone else would have done . . . Except you, apparently. Why did you just stand there?"

"I was about to interfere, but you handled the situation well. Had it gotten out of control, then I would have." He stood silently. "Three other students walked down this hall while you were talking to them. As soon as they saw what was happening, they turned away. You are not entirely like them, Miss Kensith. At least, not anymore. You _have_ been changing."

"Not really," I muttered, looking away from him.

"Your other professors seem to think so. Not for the better. I have been asked to talk to you about it. Do you wish to do so here or somewhere more private?"

I looked back at him. The teachers wanted him to talk to me. What had I done? "Er . . . Don't take this offensively, but . . . Well, because of who I look like, I think privately is the last thing either of us want. I don't want to make you uncomfortable." I looked around the hall. "Well, this is pretty private anyway, but not so . . . Personal."

He nodded once, his hands behind his back. "Agreed. Your other professors have pointed out to me that you seem more irritable than usual. You've never had any altercations with your professors, other than myself of course. They say you also seem less interested in class work that usual, and you are acting differently. Flitwick informed me you were seeking attention rather openly and rudely in one of his classes, which was most unlike you. He was worried perhaps you were under added stress, or that the influence of your new friends was changing you. I, however . . . found myself worried it was about what has happened between us, whether it was about our detention or about our discussion of _her._ Is there anything you wish to tell me?"

I shook my head. "I've just . . . I've been under a lot of stress lately. I've been, er, well . . . I just realized I wasn't . . . a good person, and I want to be . . . different."

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

"I'm just not. I'm not very kind, and I should be."

"You are fine the way you are."

I shook my head. "No, I'm not. I'm mean to my professors--you know that more than anyone--and they had to ask you to say something. I need to be . . . different. I'm selfish and . . . I haven't ever done anything worth, you know . . . I'm just, um, how do I put this? I'd be better off . . ." I brushed my hair out of my face and smiled nervously.

He raised an eyebrow.

I shook my head. "Look, uh . . . I've gotta go."

I went to walk away but he grabbed my arm. "Did you not hear me?" I frowned. He'd said several things, so I wasn't quite sure which one he was referring to. "You are fine as you are."

Shaking my head, I jerked my shoulder out of his grasp. "No, I'm not. How can I be? Look at me!" He furrowed his brows in confusions. "I . . . I stand back and let Draco make fun of people, I let him make fun of muggleborns, I mean, and I don't ever do anything nice for anyone--I'm just a waste of a human being, and I shouldn't be."

He stared at me for a few seconds.

"I answered your question. My stress is coming from me trying to change, the end of this discussion, goodbye." I walked off, holding my forehead.

But I was forced to stop when he stepped in front of me. "Miss Kensith, I must insist you stop. Your irritable nature is becoming most troublesome, and whilst I am used to your argumentative nature, they are not, and--"

"Argumentative? You don't even let me get a word in. You used to let me," I whined quietly.

"I have not changed. You are the one who has decided to stop responding."

I frowned. "No, I haven't." I went to pass him, but he stepped in front of me again. When I went to walk around the other way, he stepped in front again. "Sir, what are you doing?"

"Miss Kensith, perhaps you should accept who you are, and not try to be someone else."

I furrowed my eyebrows. I was confused. "What are you talking about?"

He quirked an eyebrow briefly. "I speak from experience--it is unwise to become someone you are not. Accept that, and you should be fine."

"But I am _not_ fine!" I snapped, stepping away from him. "What if the person I am isn't good? How can I just be that?"

He looked me over. "I know what this is about, Miss Kensith. Whilst I do appreciate what you are trying to do, I must insist you stop. You should feel no guilt over what you cannot help. As I said, being someone you are not is unwise. You are fine the way you are--change comes from experience, not force, and not all at once. The fact you wish to be different is noble enough--that, in itself, will aid you. Good day, Miss Kensith."

I didn't understand what he was saying for a few seconds, but then it hit me. I was trying to be Lily. As he went to walk past me, I sighed. "How can I compare to her?"

He was right in front of me when I said that. He stopped, our chests almost touching. I searched his face and I saw him stare at me intensely, but it was not the mixture emotions he had for Lily in his eyes, but the one he had for me that I could not place. "You are not her. You never will be." His tone was quiet, but stern nonetheless. I could feel his warm breath along my face and I could smell the cologne he wore but I did not know.

"It seems that is something we both must accept," he breathed, then he walked past me quickly, his shoulder bumping mine.

I wish I could have thought of something to say to that, but I couldn't. Snape had a way of ending a conversation with ease. He also had a way of being right.

* * *

A/N--My brother went through this phase recently. (He is fifteen and very much like Draco in personality.) He tried to impress my grandmother by changing his entire attitude, and frankly, it stressed him out. This one goes out to my bro, who learned to accept himself, and so I thought Danielle should learn (and go through this) too. Not saying she's learned it completely just yet, but at least she's starting to . . .


	10. Chapter 13

Chapter Three: Learning and Teaching

Everybody stayed for the Yule Ball. Well, not everybody, many of the younger students left, but fourth years and up had stayed, with the except of a few, perhaps. I had never seen the school so packed before--I always stayed, so I was used to the castle being almost empty. I was not used to it being so full during Christmas Break.

I was not the type of girl who got dressed up every single day. I did put makeup on, not much, and every now and then I would wear rather nice robes, but I didn't go all out on the beautifying thing. But I wanted to for the Yule Ball. I wanted to look my best, though I would most likely be going stag. Unless someone asked me pretty damn quick, considering the ball was tomorrow.

I was in the common room, trying to read over an essay I'd finished, to see if I needed to correct anything. Trying being the key word, because I couldn't concentrate on the words at all. I was thinking about something that had absolutely nothing to do with my essay, with the exception for the class it was assigned for. It was a potions essay, and I was thinking about Snape.

I don't know why I was thinking so much about him. I was thinking about what he would wear to the Yule Ball, if it was anything different than he usually wore. I wondered if it was against school policy to dance with a professor, and that if it wasn't, what it would feel like to have his arms around me, breathing in that scent, and looking into his dark eyes. I wondered how he would look at me--if he would look at me as Lily, or as me, which he did occasionally. Although I tried not to, I did entertain thoughts about what it would be like to kiss him, and how his lips would feel against mine. Whenever I thought about kissing him, my jaw starting tingling as did my lips, and my heart began to race. I even got a grin on my face. Then I would tell myself that was such a stupid thing to think and try to force myself to read the essay again, but it would inevitably return to Snape.

Snape wasn't that bad, really. Sure, he was a bit impatient in class, and sometimes he had slight mood swings, but at least he knew what he was talking about. He wasn't there to be popular; he was there to teach. He was strict, yes, but almost all of his students knew more about potions than they realized. Plus, he had this commanding presence. Sure, he was mean and blunt, but it could come off as teasing in a way. He was actually quite fascinating and sometimes rather funny. And the way he spoke, it was rather mesmerizing. I caught myself staring at him sometimes, entranced, and he would catch me too. Instead of becoming angry, like he did in my first class, he would merely smile the tiniest smile, meet my eyes and continue teaching the class, although he would look at me specifically, as if I were his only student. Sometimes I had the urge to look away quickly, but I never did, because I was just looking at him as a student, and why should I feel ashamed of that? It wasn't like I had a crush on him or anything. Of course not. That was just silly. I didn't even like him. Not at all. Nope.

The recent detention I'd had with Snape had gone well. We talked of the many different ingredients and the different uses they had as we corrected essays. For some odd reason he hated Hermione Granger, but she seemed to be the most intelligent. He probably just didn't like her because she hung out with Harry. He could be so childish sometimes.

Reading over this essay was pointless. I couldn't get Snape out of my head, and I was tired of rereading something when I couldn't even retain what it said.

I was halfway to the portrait, deciding that I wanted to wander the school some, when Blaise stepped in front of me. "Good morning, Danielle." The smile he wore was dashing, as was the way he winked at me.

If not for the fact Blaise was spoiled as hell and was so full of himself and jealous of Draco's position, I would call him very charismatic. Well, actually, he _was_ charismatic and handsome, but I just couldn't get out of my head how much of a two-faced git he was. How many times had I heard him saying untrue things about Draco while he was nothing but kind to his face, and I know he had been encouraging rumours about me. Not only that, but ever since I had stuck up for that Dennis kid, he had been giving me some seriously dirty look.

"Actually, it's the evening, but 'hello' to you too."

He casually put his arm around my shoulder, and I just-as-casually pushed it off of me. Maybe it was because I hadn't been too close with anyone while I grew up, but I did not like people touching me very often. Especially ones I didn't really know. Draco was okay (not that he ever touched me as openly as Blaise) and I didn't mind it when Snape did it, even though he had touched my face and hugged me a few times. Other than that, I didn't like it. Blaise, for some reason, thought that everybody in the world was comfortable with him getting right in that personal bubble. He touched everyone.

He looked confused that I would reject his advances, probably because no one had ever refused his advances, but he played it off. "So, do you have a date for the Yule Ball?"

"No," I answered. So he was going to ask me. I had wondered, because although he did flirt with me at times, he usually made fun of me for being a goody-goody or whatever it was he called me when he thought I couldn't hear him. "Don't you, though?"

"Of course. I have several. But I would prefer to take you. They're just back ups." I wondered exactly how many other girls he had given that line to, and which one he would eventually take if not me, and how many girls he would hurt by refusing and going with someone else. "I know contraceptive charms, you know, so we don't have to deal with the unfortunate business of pregnancy." He rolled his eyes.

I frowned. "I also have a way to prevent pregnancy--abstinence. I'm not going to have sex with you. And after what you were doing to Dennis, I don't fancy going anywhere with you."

"If no one's asked you but me, you should accept. It is rude not to do otherwise. And then we'll have sex. Honestly, you can't expect something for nothing."

"I'm not going to have sex with you, Blaise. The pleasure of my company should be enough payment." What a berk--it wouldn't have bugged me for him to be cautious by learning those spells, but expecting it--downright telling me I had to, well, that frustrated me beyond belief.

"Quit being such a prude. You are _going_ to have sex with me," he stated firmly, his dark eyes narrowing, while he stepped closer to me, directly in my personal space.

I stepped back from him. "No, I'm not, and I'm not going to the Ball with you. Go with one of your other dates." I turned away and went towards the portrait, scowling.

He grabbed my arm and forced me to turn. "I want to go with you, Danielle. You will accompany me. You can't go by yourself, you know--how pathetic will that look? Trust me, you want someone like me on your arm when you go to a ball."

"I'm not going with you, Blaise," I snapped, more firmly. Draco, who was talking with Pansy nearby, was looking at us, and I had no idea how long he'd been listening to the conversation. Not that I cared, he was just as much of a bully as Blaise was.

"Nobody denies me, do you understand me? And nobody _ever_ talks to me that way." He stepped closer to me and held my upper arm so tightly my fingers were going numb. "Now, you are going to go with me. That. Is. Final."

"Blaise, let her go," Draco ordered, leaving Pansy to come beside us. I honestly don't know why he even stuck up for me--he'd been rather cold to me lately. I had been even colder. Why did he think he could get away with bullying people? He had a very stern expression on his face, and Pansy scowled behind him for a moment, before she walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his abdomen. She smirked at me, as if I cared one bit about her and Draco going out. Seriously, she was just as full of it as Draco was.

For a moment I thought Blaise was going to punch Draco in the face, but instead he stormed off, muttering darkly, until he found some other girl to wrap his arms around. This girl did not push him away, but instead blushed and gave into him.

"You'll still be going, won't you?" he asked, still somewhat ignoring Pansy holding him from behind, her chin resting on his shoulder. This was the first kind thing he had said to me since I'd stopped him from bullying Dennis.

"No, even though I really want to go, the fact no one is going with me is going to stop me," I drawled sarcastically, raising one eyebrow. He smirked. "Yeah, sure. I don't mind going alone."

He nodded a few times. "I should be on my way--where you were heading?"

"Nowhere, probably just reading, why?"

He shrugged. "Just curious." They both walked off, Pansy holding onto his arm now.

Draco was anything but curious. He rarely asked a question for no reason. He wanted to know for a reason, but I didn't know what. Sighing, I left the common room, and started for my reading spot--next to Snape's office, for no one bugged me there, and the rumours had quelled (like Draco and Cedric had said they would) so I had no problem with it.

I managed to read one chapter of my muggle book when I heard footsteps. I looked upward. Draco was smiling above me, although a bit nervously. I shut my book and stood, turning the cover so that he couldn't read it and figure it was a muggle story. "Danielle. This is your reading spot, obviously I know this. Mind if we talk?"

I frowned. "I'm not so sure. You know, I don't appreciate how you are so . . . um . . ." I couldn't think of the word he was. Well, I could, but it came up as capricious, and I really didn't want to say that, because people just didn't say words like that in conversation. Well, maybe Snape would . . .

"Devilishly handsome?" he offered with a smug little smirk.

I scoffed. "Yeah, okay," I muttered sarcastically. "No, I mean . . . fickle."

He furrowed his brows. "I'm not fickle."

"You are about me."

He scowled. "You just confuse me is all. You bully Millicent all you want, yet you tell me to quit teaching that Creevey boy a lesson. He was telling me what to think, he got an attitude with me, and I think I have the right to my own opinions. Yet you have the right to punish Millicent as much as you like. Not only that, but you complain you have no friends, yet I never see you talking to anyone. Why do you think I put so much effort in getting you known? So that I could ignore you? Honestly, you are a hypocrite. You're the fickle one. And not as intelligent as I thought you were." He rolled his eyes.

Draco had a way of knowing exactly what to say to hurt my feelings. It was probably because he was such a git. "I'm not fickle! Or hypocritical!" I snapped, glaring at him.

"Which is way you harass Millicent more than two months after she embarrassed you and yet get angry with me for doing it to that boy once, and directly after he insulted me."

"She Vanished my clothing! He merely disagreed with you! There's a big difference, Draco!" I snapped. Why was I so angry? I shouldn't let this bug me, but it did. I wanted to smack that smug look right off his face.

"I never said I disagreed with you, but I did say you don't like it when I do things you do constantly. I applaud you, actually. Very Slytherin of you. Is it such a bad thing be a Slytherin, Danielle? Stop being so jealous and get over it. Honestly. I can tell you're forcing someone else's standards on yourself. It's annoying, really." He rolled his eyes in that haughty way of his.

I frowned at him. I did not like hearing what he had to say, but a part of me knew it was true. He was talking about my little trying-to-become-Lily phase. I had stopped after Snape's little discussion with me. I didn't need the added stress. But I didn't need to hear it from him either.

"You know, I haven't bullied Millicent in awhile, and if I feel like I should stop you from harassing someone, then I have every right."

He scoffed and scowled at me. "That idiot mudblood deserved a good whipping--talking to his superiors like that. Even _you_ can't tell me you would accept that from a mudblood?"

"What makes you think you're his superior, Draco? Just because you're a pureblood's wet dream?" I snapped. I instantly regretted it. Nobody defended muggleborns in front of a Malfoy.

He stepped closer to me menacingly. "What did you say to me?"

I regretted it instantly. Why had I decided to suggest that blood wasn't important in front of him? "I just meant you're not better than anyone else in this school. You shouldn't treat anyone like that." There. That sounded vague enough.

"I can do as I please, Danielle, because I _am_ a pureblood's wet dream. And I doubt a mudblood deserves any type of respect. How can they even dare to step foot and learn our ways and bring it home to their primitive, muggle parents? Tell the world about us! I can't believe you would even suggest I think they are equal to me--you! And you live with a filthy mudblood! One who knows her place, and rightfully so. And you tell me she's nasty piece of work, yet you defend the disgusting vermin," he drawled, the sneer plastered on his face somewhat intimidating.

Why was he so full of himself? Why? Well, okay, because he was spoiled, and rich, and taught to think that way because of his parents, but really, was that enough to make excuses for him? So then why did I always let him?

"Not all muggleborns are like that, though. It doesn't really make any logical sense, Draco. Look at Hermione Granger--she's smart. A bit of a know-it-all, but smart. And . . . there are some that are nice. Just because my mum is a massive bitch doesn't mean that all of them are--and her problem isn't her blood, it's really the fact she lies all the bloody time, and she tried to impress everyone she meets."

"I've met your mother; I know what her problems are." He looked me over, his grey eyes flashing dangerously. "You're not defending mudbloods are you? Because if you are . . ." he warned.

I blinked a few times. I had two choices. Get some guts and say that I was, and that I thought him being prejudice against muggleborns was idiotic, as I know Lily would have and any decent girl. Or I could say I definitely was not, but merely pointing out I thought he was being immature by bullying Dennis for simply stating his opinion when Draco believed he had the right to state his wherever he went. There was truth to both of them, but one would keep him believing I was a 'true' Slytherin and the other would get me in serious trouble. Although he was a prat, he was the closest thing I had to a friend (other than Snape, and the fact I ever considered him close to a friend was really bothering me) and I don't even know why I considered him even close to a friend, but there it was.

So I made my choice. It wasn't a good choice, or a noble choice, but one that would impress him, and let him believe I was just like all of them. Why was I even in Slytherin? I liked muggleborns--they were just like everyone else.

"Of course I'm not sticking up for them. I just thought it was hypocritical of you to sit there and say you had a right to offer your opinion to anyone who decided to walk within a twelve-foot radius of you, but Dennis couldn't." I shifted my weight onto my other foot and turned the book even more.

"Say it, then." I frowned at him. What was he asking me to say? "Tell me what Granger and your mother and that Creevey boy are. Tell me. What are they?"

Muggleborn. I always said that, didn't I? "Mudblood," I stated, acting like it was something anybody would say at any time, like 'fork' or 'spoon' or any other word in the English language that wasn't an insult. It left a bad taste on my tongue, like being dared to say a bad word in primary school. Just like the time I told Harry Potter which house I belonged to.

He was obviously impressed.

I felt a little sick to my stomach. What made it worse was that I was standing in one of my favourite spots, and I wondered if now my favourite spot would forever be ruined by this event.

"Well, I've gotta go, Draco, I'll talk to you later."

"No," he said, before I could move. "I needed to talk to you, remember?"

"And I said I didn't want to. Why would I? You're so . . . I mean, you just gave me a big lecture! This is what I was talking about! You like me, then you hate me, and you treat me like I'm just some random . . . _thing_ in your life, and expect me to just obey your every whim! I'm not a dog, Draco. And I don't like how your opinion always changes with me."

He frowned. "What are you talking about? I always like you, Danielle. I act like this around everyone." He looked at me like I was stupid.

I stood there for a second. I don't know why I felt strange, but I did. "Oh."

"If I didn't like you, I would let you know. And I would not have told everyone that Snape seems to like you. You're the one who avoided me, Danielle, not the other way around. Would I invite you into my room otherwise? You are so thick sometimes. If anything, it's you who doesn't like me. Do you, at all, because I don't want to waste my time furthering a friendship if you're not even interested."

Did I like Draco? It was weird. I didn't know if I did or didn't. He was interesting, but annoying. Yet he always said what was on his mind, not matter who was around, but at the same time, he felt he had to impress people. At least he didn't lie about himself, though, like my mother. Still, he was an arrogant prat, and a bit of a chicken. But . . . There was something in him, something deep (maybe so deep I would never unearth it) that made him different than the rest of his friends. Maybe it was intelligence (but Blaise was also smart) or possibly the aristocratic air (but, well, plenty of Slytherins had that as well) or a combination of both (Blaise once again) but there was something I liked about him.

"Yeah, I like you." For whatever reason.

"Good." He looked entirely too smug. "Now may we have this discussion? And it's not just one little thing, either."

"Yeah . . . Is here all right, or do you want to go somewhere more private?"

He looked around his shoulder, the shrugged. "Here seems fine." I nodded. "First, I would look out for Blaise. He's got his eye on you, and . . . well, normally I don't care what he does with whatever little tramp he's got following him around, but you . . . Well, it's different." Was he concerned for me? Weird. "I don't know what it is about him you don't respond to, but that's never happened to him before, and he doesn't like it. Why don't you like him, anyway?"

"Well, he's a two-faced berk. Really. You know he tells people your parents are incest, right?" Draco's face fell. He did not look pleased. I almost smirked. Maybe I could get them to stop being friends. That would be nice for me. "And you know he's just trying to get in charge, right?"

"Of course I know he's trying to overthrow my obvious right to leading those thick cronies around. That bit about my parents though . . . Is just uncalled for. I don't go around telling everyone that his mother kills all her husbands, do I? And _that's_ true." He gave me a stern look.

For some reason, I actually believed him. There was something about his tone that made it hard not to. And knowing Blaise, well . . .

"Well, he says all that. And he talked behind my back, too. So yeah. That's why I don't like him."

His lips pursed. "Well. He won't like it when I tell everyone he has same-sex tendencies." I furrowed my eyebrows. "That one is a lie, as far as I know. He's homophobic, you see."

"And what do you think about all that?" I asked, tilting my head. I wondered if a muggle-hating pureblood like him could have any type of love for anything unconventional.

"What about it?" I raised my eyebrows. He rolled his eyes. "As far as I'm concerned, the sex is disgusting--unless it's with two girls, obviously--but they can live their lives how they choose. I don't mind them in the least. Why should I care who they love? As long as it's a respectable witch or wizard."

What an odd boy. I did not understand prejudice at all. At least he wasn't homophobic.

"Oh. Well, do what you like about Blaise. I'll just avoid him, thank you." I thought of him draping his arm over me and his somewhat sexual-predator-like vibe I got from him. That was something I hoped would end quickly.

"Also . . . You, being a girl, can help me."

"Help you with what?"

He shifted uncomfortably, and I saw him sneer. His grey eyes darted back and forth. "As you know, Pansy and I have been . . . Well, getting close."

I raised my eyebrow and couldn't help but smile. This was funny. "Oh, really? I hadn't noticed. It's not like she sits on your lap and wraps her arms around you and laughs at every damn thing you say." He smirked a little and let out a small chuckle. "But . . .well, you seem to be a little, um . . . Stand-offish."

He nodded a little. "How do I . . . touch a girl without being . . ." He looked afraid to finish the sentence. "Never mind, everything is absolutely fine." He shook his head and began walking away.

I laughed, then hurriedly ran up to him. Who would have thought of this coming from Draco Malfoy? "Have you two even kissed?" I asked when he stopped after noticing I had stood beside him.

I thought I heard some footsteps, but before I could see if I was right, Draco answered me.

"No. I think we will, tonight."

"Oh." I looked away form the source of where the sound had come from. "You don't want to seem pushy and like a pervert, right?" I was still giggling slightly.

He jutted his chin out arrogantly. "Mother always told me to respect a woman. If you find that hilarious, then I'll go find someone else to ask."

"I'm not . . . That's a good thing." He visibly relaxed. "I'm not sure I'm the best girl to ask, since I've never been kissed either. But, about the touching . . ." The only two I really felt comfortable with touching me was him and Snape, and Draco had only touched me when wrestling around or playing. That wasn't sexual at all, or flirting. As far as I knew, anyway. "Well, I think that's in the body language. If she touches you, it's probably okay for you to touch her in the same place. But if she flinches or her body gets all tight, then you should probably back off. I think this is something you have to learn from experience. I'm not quite sure."

Despite the fact that what I had said sounded like complete crap, he seemed to be studying it. He looked down both ends of the hallways, then he reached forward and put his hand on my shoulder. He squeezed it, then rubbed up and down my arm a few times. I stood there, completely still. It was awkward, but only because I knew what he was doing--testing my theory. Had he done it any other day, I wouldn't have even noticed it, really.

His hand hesitated in the air in front of me, then he brushed my hair out of my eyes (the problem with long hair was that it always got in my eyes) and then he brushed the back of his fingers against my cheek. I wanted to jerk my head away from him. It wasn't that he was rough or anything--he was actually gentle, caressing even--but I wanted him to understand. So I kept my head still.

His fingers went underneath my jawbone and his thumb ran across my bottom lip. My shoulder tightened a bit against my will. That was almost too much. "If she ever leans into your hand, then it's probably okay to step closer, and maybe lean in to kiss her, by the way," I told him. While I talked, he moved his thumb from my lip.

Good God, this felt wrong.

He nodded, then kept running the tips of his fingers or the back of his hand across my cheek. It felt nice. It reminded me of when Snape touched my face, the few times he had done so. Think about Snape made me smile, and I leaned a bit into Draco's hand without realizing it.

He cupped my face with both of his hands, surprisingly gentle, and stepped closer to me, invading my space. I stiffened slightly. He leaned in to kiss me, but I turned my head away and stepped back. "I was just testing," he told me.

Even though I had suspected that, I still felt weird. I don't know why I hadn't done that when Snape leaned in, although that would've made more sense. "Okay, well, if she does that, do _not_ proceed." He nodded, and I got an idea that made my stomach churn, but I figured it would be helpful. "Okay--god I feel so stupid right now--grab my face again."

He held my face again, gentle. His grey eyes were narrowed intently. He was focusing on me, the same way he focused on his essays. It was strange. "Okay, now, I _don't_ want you to actually kiss me, but I'm going to act like I would if was going to let you, understand?"

"I'm not thick, Danielle, I understand the English language."

I looked around us again. I didn't see anyone, but then again, the dungeons were dark. "Okay. Well, go to kiss me."

He leaned in, his eyes on me. I tried to remember what I'd done the time Snape and I almost kissed. I leaned forward and my mouth parted slightly. When we were about an inch apart, I pulled my head away. "With the kissing, you'll have to learn that on your own, because I am as clueless as you are."

He nodded. Then his hands went to both of my shoulders, then the tips of his fingers went along my collarbone, and towards my chest, his fingers feeling wonderful on my skin, but making my stomach churn unpleasantly anyway.

I pulled away from him and my shoulders withdrew slightly. "Okay, that's a no as well. If you go for her chest, and she arches into you, then I'm sure it's good. But that's as far as this conversation goes, okay?"

He looked me over, nodded once, doing his impressed expression again, then sauntered off, with that smug smirk on his face. He might as well get it trademarked.

I looked at the book I still held in one hand, then started over to my spot beside Snape's door. Snape walked out of the shadows, with an eyebrow raised. Why was I not surprised? I remembered hearing footsteps, and perhaps that was why. Also, Snape had a way of appearing out of shadows.

"You are odd," he stated.

"What? He asked for help."

"It was noble of you."

I scoffed, but it was not out of exasperation, because I was smiling. "Why would I pass up a chance of being in control of him? Come on, you would've done the same."

"I can assure you, I would not."

I frowned and furrowed my eyebrows. "No, I don't suppose you would." He stayed beside his door for a moment, and I wondered if he was thinking what I was thinking. I had not pulled away from him or flinched when he touched me. I knew it meant something, but I didn't know what. "You know, the whole time he touched me, I wanted to pull away."

"I noticed."

I tilted my head. He was looking at me with the same expression he looked at me with when I gave him his birthday present. It was the expression he reserved for me, not Lily. I don't know why he would do that, but I wished I knew why so I could make sure it happened more often.

"I never did with you, though."

His black eyes flicked away from mine and he turned his head away the slightest bit, for only for a second. "I know," he said. He opened the door to go into his office.

I smiled at him. "I'll see you at the Yule Ball tomorrow, sir."

"And who will you be attending the Ball with?"

I sighed and rolled my eyes. I looked at him and shrugged. "Stag," I muttered.

His black eyes narrowed. He did not look pleasant anymore. "Stag," he repeated. I nodded. Why would that upset him? It wasn't like I told him I was going with Harry Potter. I would not do that with him--I would not make him see me with 'James' ever. At least, not romantically. "Ironic," he added.

I didn't get it.

"Maybe we could share a dance." After I said that, I felt like a complete idiot, and I wanted to tell him I was just joking, but my throat closed up.

He blinked several times, and rather rapidly. "Perhaps. If I find time away from the hordes of other attractive females asking, I shall come directly to you. I imagine I will be popular, so I may not find the time." The side of his mouth lifted.

I chuckled airily. "Well, I wouldn't want to ruin your evening, so I had to ask, you know. I didn't know if it was allowed."

"I understand." He still held the door open. He looked into his office, then at me again. "Good evening, Miss Kensith." Then he went into his office and shut the door.

And now I was bursting with energy, and knew I would be thinking of dancing with him all night. I didn't even care if me being ecstatic was appropriate or not.


	11. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: The Yule Ball

Good thing my mother had a fascination with giving me robes for every occasion where a gift was needed, otherwise I wouldn't have had anything to wear. But I wasn't used to getting all dressed up. It was odd, to see me in something other than everyday robes, and the occasional flattering robes. Even though I did use makeup, I didn't use a lot. I had always viewed myself as average looking, except for the red hair and green eyes. For some reason, that combination always made me stick out more than anyone else. Don't get me wrong, I thought I was pretty, but there were far prettier girls around the school. The only reason Blaise was even interested in me was because, although I was pretty, I was 'friends' with Draco. Why else had he never talked to me before? And he had sexier girls draped on his arm every other day, and without much effort, either. But none of those girls knew Draco as I did, or had a connection with Malfoy family at all. Well, except Pansy perhaps, and I don't think even Blaise would be stupid enough to try and take her from him. Besides, she looked like a pug.

But I thought I looked beautiful tonight. The dress-robe wasn't overly glamorous, but I thought it was nice enough. It was white, and it hugged my breasts, but flared out a little around the hip area. I thought the white went with my skin tone. I'd pulled my hair up in a messy bun with tendrils. I'd even done my makeup grey and shadowy. It had taken awhile, mostly because of experimenting with what looked good, but I was finally pleased with how I looked. Sure, there would be much more beautiful girls, but compared to my usual average prettiness, I couldn't help but feel rather pleased with myself.

I'd stayed up in the common room long after the rest of the girls had left, not feeling really comfortable getting ready around them. Most of them had gone to professionals in Hogsmeade or London, so there weren't many left to see me. The few who had remained got ready several hours before the dance and had gone on a 'day-date' or whatever it was they called it.

I imagined it in my head. I imagined walking into the common room and everyone turning and staring at me, even for the briefest of moment, to notice how beautiful I was. I imagined walking into the Great Hall and everyone I passed giving me appreciative glances. It probably wouldn't happen, but I imagined it anyway.

I did walk into the common room. A few people did glance at me and smile a little, but nothing special. It was more of a greeting than an appreciative glance. I glanced over at Blaise, who looked dashing and handsome as hell, and I snarled. Why was he cursed with that ugly personality? The girl he was with, who looked to be a seventh year, was gorgeous. She had brunette hair with blonde streaks done perfectly, and the most beautiful dress-robe I had ever seen. Not to mention the perfect curves and the pouting mouth. Well, she fit him better than I ever would, and if she was all right having sex with him, then so be it. I couldn't stand the prat anyway, but I was a bit jealous. I wish I had someone to go with.

There was the prospect of Snape dancing with me, though. Could that count as going with someone? Not that I really cared, of course, because I didn't, but I thought about it anyway.

Pansy, surprisingly, was . . . Well, I wouldn't say radiant, but she was attractive. She had a slight blush on his cheeks that matched the pink of her dress, and her makeup seemed to make her pug-like face more flattering. She was usually so brash and commanding--pushy, even, especially around Draco, in her flirtatiousness--but when I saw her beside Draco in his high-necked dress-robe, she looked demure. People passed by and looked at her with surprise and appreciation. Draco was obviously trying to not to grin because his lips were tight but the corners of his mouth were lifted slightly. They were holding hands. I felt a pang of jealousy. I don't know where it came from, although I think it might've been because she was getting the response I had wanted. Then again, she deserved it, because she looked far different from how she usually did.

"Pansy, you looked stunning!" Blaise exclaimed, eyes bright and smile wide.

I was shocked. Surprised, even. Was I hearing things? Had Blaise complimented her? I guess it wasn't surprising, since he was such a sweet talker to everyone's face. But he usually didn't even notice Pansy in any way, shape, or form.

True, she still wasn't extremely attractive, but compared to her usual self . . . Well, perhaps that's what made him actually say something. Just as I was starting to think he might have been serious, I saw the smirk on his perfect date's face.

"As stunning as a dog _can_ look, anyway. Hope you can have fun with that on your arm, Draco." Pansy's blushing face fell and Draco's teeth clenched, just as his eyes narrowed. "I guess you couldn't do any better than me, so what was I expecting?"

Pansy looked like she might cry. Draco looked like he might attack Blaise. "And you have fun with your vapid whore, while _I_ have fun with someone real. Someone who will last longer than tonight," he drawled, pulling Pansy closer.

I actually felt bad for Pansy. I don't know where it had come from, but I remembered how I had been teased when I was in primary school, about being a 'fire-crotch' or about me being a leprechaun, or a freak, and I remembered just how much words could hurt. I thought about Snape, who was teased far worse than I ever was, and I couldn't stand letting someone go through that, even if Pansy was sort of a bitch. But who wouldn't be jealous? I did spend an awful lot of alone time with Draco. All right, now I was empathizing with her. I guess that came from me wondering if Snape and McGonagall were together, and how I found I liked McGonagall less than I already had. Not that I cared who Snape spent his time with, but he really could do better. Dumbledore suited McGonagall far better anyway. I shook my head--this pity was about Pansy, and I shouldn't get lost in my own thoughts.

Blaise laughed it off and walked away with his date.

I could either go over and hex the both of them and ruin their date, which was actually very tempting and I had my wand pointed at their backs, both Pansy and Draco looking at me strangely, then I realized it would be rude--just as rude as Blaise had been--to ruin the only Yule Ball (as far as I know) that Hogwarts had ever had. I didn't want to do that, even if they deserved it. Or I could go and comfort Pansy, who I didn't really like.

Although I really wanted to hex the two idiots, I put my wand down, and returned to Draco and Pansy.

"Don't listen to them. He's just jealous of Draco, is all. He has to tear down others to make himself feel better." Not that Draco was much different than that, although I guessed that neither him nor Blaise really need to feel any better about themselves than they already did. Or maybe they really did believe themselves to be better. Whichever it was, I decided to make Blaise the typical bully.

Pansy frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Has he ever called you ugly before? No. And look at you--you're beautiful. You were just taking the attention off of him and his date. How many people complimented his date compared to how many complimented you? Don't pay attention to him. He took that airhead because no one else would go with him. You should've seen his face when I denied him."

Although Pansy's eyes were wet, she still managed to look at me with confusion. I was as confused as she was, but I couldn't bare to see her go through what I had, or even worse, what Snape had. "You really think I look beautiful?" She was in doubt.

I nodded. "Yes. Draco's a lucky guy. And you should know, too, the way he constantly talks about you."

She wiped underneath her eyes, smearing her makeup a little. She smiled at me and beamed at Draco. "I've gotta go fix my makeup." She left quickly, holding up her pink robes.

Draco was staring at me incredulously. "I had the impression you didn't like her. Well, I know she doesn't like you, and you always glare at her."

"I think she's annoying, but Blaise had no reason for saying that."

He tilted his head and considered me. "You look--" He cut himself off, apparently unsure of what to say. He thought for a moment. "Beautiful. If I wasn't going with Pansy, I would have probably chosen you."

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Come on, Draco."

"I'm serious. You're the closest thing I have to a real friend, Danielle."

Strange. I had no idea Draco felt the same way that I had. Perhaps long conversations in his rooms since, I don't know, infancy, really did matter to the prejudiced pure-blooded prince. I didn't think he cared for that sort of thing--I guess I always viewed him as shallow.

I smiled at him. "I feel the same way. I know Pansy thinks that I, you know, _like_ you, but . . . Well, friends, like you said."

He nodded understandingly. "Of course. Now, you'd better hurry on to the Ball, otherwise you might miss your date."

I scoffed. "I don't have a date."

"Well, then, you should go steal the as many hearts as you can." He raised an eyebrow at me, almost knowingly. "Perhaps with Snape, or something."

I shifted uncomfortably and my cheeks began to burn. "That's just silly."

"Perhaps." I hated that knowing smirk.

Other than a pathetic attempt at a Valentine's Day Dance in fifth grade, I had never been to anything remotely similar to a ball. It was absolutely gorgeous. The icicles in the Great Hall looked as though they should have been turned the Hall into an ice box, but it was actually warm. People danced around, laughing, talking--it was as though all the students had transformed into the most beautiful version of themselves.

I looked around for Snape, but he wasn't there. Something seemed to stab me in the chest each time I noticed he wasn't around, and I remembered him hinting that perhaps we would share a dance. Maybe he'd changed his mind. It had been stupid of me to think that he'd actually go through with it. What an idiot I turned out to be.

I didn't let his absence bother me too much though. Perhaps it was against rules. Maybe he was doing something else important. It shouldn't bother me as much as it was.

Draco and I shared a dance or two, both of us keeping a respectful distance from the other. Pansy didn't seem to mind too much.

After awhile, though, it was starting to get boring, since I didn't have anyone to actually be with, and I couldn't get Snape out of my mind. I had imagined the both of us, together, dancing gracefully across the floor, his face looking into mine eagerly, his black eyes intense . . . How it would feel to have him actually kiss me this time, not push me away or view me as lily . . . But hat was a stupid thought. And why would I even want to kiss him? He was my teacher, and, not to mention, pretty damn ugly. With that greasy hair and that long, curved nose, and that thin, snarling mouth . . . And those hands . . . And the voice . . . And that smell . . .

I shook my head again. What was wrong with me? Why did I miss him, when we had talked to each other (albeit briefly) the day before? And why had I even suggested we dance, when obviously he wouldn't want to, because that would have been torture for him? Why was I such an idiot? Why had I taken what he'd said so seriously? It wasn't like I really wanted him to dance with me, honestly. He was just a Professor, like any other.

I stared at the crowd, at all of the loving people, dancing slowly with each other, gazing . . . Oh, that must've been where those, er, _romantic_ thoughts had come from. Everyone around me was being romantic. No wonder. I hadn't been thinking those thoughts on my own. Obviously. The thoughts were coming from the people around me. Stupid people, confusing me as they had . . .

I walked out of the Great Hall and went outside. Even the bushes were decorated, with little fairies, or else something else that was small and had a bright light.

I walked through the grounds, noticing that some of the fairies were following me, casting me in a silvery glow. I frowned, then walked a bit faster, trying to fully appreciate the beautiful surroundings, the high moon, the cool wind . . . But as I walked, more fairies followed me.

I frowned, then walked faster, ignoring how Karkaroff brushed past me, grumbling, fixing his left sleeve grumpily. Why wouldn't the fairies leave me alone? I tried brushing them off. It wasn't that I didn't like fairies, but really, it was ridiculous that they would follow me like this. And the silvery glow wasn't too annoying, but since they were so close, the buzzing sound was.

I stopped walking and tried shooing them, gritting my teeth. I should have just stayed inside. Having at least a hundred little balls of light swirling around me was somewhat dizzying. I tried batting them away, really annoyed now. The lights, this close, were almost blinding.

"Could you be more bloody pathetic? Go away!" I snapped, failing in trying to shoo them.

"I beg your pardon?" I heard Snape say.

I peered through the intense light, and did see a dark form ahead. I sighed, then waved my hands around a bit more. "Professor Snape--is that you? I can't really see--these damn fairies just won't leave me alone."

"Are you wearing jasmine-scented perfume?" he asked.

I thought for a moment. What perfume had I worn? It took me a few seconds, but then I nodded. "Yes, I got it from some muggle store. So? Could you help me, please?"

He muttered something, and I swear all the little balls of light zoomed away from me, and returned to the bushes surrounding the area. Since I was no longer blind, I could see that the effect (when they were in the bushes) was actually mesmerizing.

I looked at Snape, who was bathed in the glow, as well as the moon's. I don't me I glanced at him, or saw him standing there, but I actually _looked_ at him. That's sounds so stupid, even to me, but this was the first time I really, truly, saw him. It was like I was seeing him for the first time. Even though I knew he wasn't attractive, there was still something very artistic about him. The way he stood, his composed posture, his lank hair making curtains around his face, those black ,tunnel-like eyes . . . Even that horrible nose had something artistic about. However, it was the hands that completed the picture. I had seen those hands measure and pluck and stir, and the precise control he had over anything he touched. Hell, he would have complete control over me if he touched me. In fact, every time he had touched me, I'd been powerless . . . I stared at the dark robes that clung to his narrow frame, and I felt my mouth curve into a half-smile.

After a few seconds, he strode over to me, looking me over. "Jasmine attracts them. Seeing as wizards know this, they have ways of making perfume that does not attract the fairies, however jasmine-scented muggle perfume still attracts them. All I did was duplicate your scent to the surrounding foliage." He indicated the bushes around me.

Even if I had known my perfume had attracted them, I would never have thought of that. "You're very clever," I complimented, smiling at him.

"I've always thought so."

"It's a wonder you don't fall over, with your head as big as it is," I joked, smirking at him. And I will admit it came out rather flirtatiously.

He frowned slightly, almost as though he had a small sense of déjà vu.

He shifted uncomfortably, and I wanted desperately to bring up the dance we had talked about, but it didn't come out of my mouth as I had wanted it to. "So, how has your day been?" came out instead, and I realized how trite that sounded.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Reverting to small talk?"

"Well, I couldn't think of what to say."

"Perhaps a first in your life."

"Well, what would you prefer to talk about? The Yule Ball, which you've spent the whole time not in?" I asked, raising my eyebrow. "Or we could always talk about Draco, and that he's not as capricious as I thought, at least not in regards to me." There. I had said capricious, like I had wanted to, and I knew Snape would know what I meant.

"No, I thought we could speak of something else."

"Such as?"

"Taking up on your offer to share a dance first comes to mind."

Huh. My heart skipped a beat.

"O-Okay," I stammered, the stepped closer to him.

I was suddenly aware of my body. It was as though I'd never had one before, and everything it did and everything it felt was happening as though I had never felt it before. When his smooth hand found its way into mine, and his other hand pressed lightly against the small of my back, the sensations that went through my body were intense. It was amazing I wasn't hyperventilating and panting, because my lungs seemed to want to work four thousand times harder than it needed to. And I knew my body it was shaking--it had to be, considering my skin seemed to be thrumming with electricity.

I wish I could say that we moved gracefully over the grounds, him being the prefect dancer he was, and he twirled me, and dipped me. I wish I could say that, because then I'd have an excuse for being so completely enamoured by the way he moved. But it was a very simple dance--we shuffled slightly on the spot, but for some reason, his body moving against mine, our robes brushing with each sway, was making my heart melt as though he had been doing Fred Astaire shit.

And I wish I could say I was able to stare into his eyes. But I couldn't, for some reason, and I found myself focusing on his chest. If he couldn't feel my pulse vibrating the air around us, then I would be shocked, because I could hear my heartbeat as though it were pounding on a drum, blood whooshing past my ears. The air seemed to slide through me, like I was underwater or something, as my brain was incapable of forming a single coherent thought. All I knew was that being this close to Snape, and dancing with him slowly while fairies circled overheard, casting a silvery-glow, was making me swoon, like some lovesick schoolgirl.

And that's when I realized that I _was_ a lovesick schoolgirl.

Oh, God, I had a crush on Snape.

A part of me was screaming 'duh' and smacking me upside the head for being stupid.

How could I have not realized this before? All the times I had purposely snuck out, hoping he would be the one to catch me, and hoping he would assign my detention with him, which he normally did. How many times had I made up little stories about us meeting in the halls and having a decent conversation, and him saying my name with the same amount of intensity as he said Lily's name?

I gathered up the courage to look up at his face, and I noticed he was looking down at me. As soon as I realized this, I quickly looked away.

"A bit shy, are we?" he commented.

I looked back up at him, smiling nervously. "Yeah, well, first dance, you know."

"You never cease to amaze me." My heart skipped another beat, and I let out a sigh. A happy sigh. And then I bit my bottom lip. God. How had I not noticed I liked him before?

I chuckled and turned my head down a bit, but I tilted it to the side so I could look at him still. "I'm not that amazing."

"Helping Draco learn about intimacy is amazing in itself."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, I imagine _that_ was helpful, being as I've never even been kissed."

"I can assure you that someone has, in the least, _thought_ about kissing you."

Normally I would have rolled my eyes, but coming from him, knowing that we had almost kissed and so he had thought about it at least once, I didn't try to disprove him.

The rest of the dance passed in silence. I don't know how long we danced, but after awhile, I managed to calm myself down enough to stare into his dark eyes, feeling as though he could see into my soul as easily as I could see his face. His gaze never wavered, and it was intense as usual.

Finally we slowed to a stop, and though I wanted him to keep touching my hand and the small of my back, I knew we couldn't do that forever. A part of me wanted to run away so that there was no way for him to ever figure out what I had just figured out for myself.

"I believe the Ball is coming to a close, Miss Kensith."

I shrugged as I stepped away from him. "Yeah, well, it happens."

"And so it does." He nodded once, then walked away, heading towards the castle.

I stood there for a moment, looking at all of my surroundings. I should probably not be around Snape so much, lest he pieces together my feelings for him. Then again, he probably already had. He probably knew before I did. It wouldn't surprise me. Not in the least.

I wandered around for a bit, really looking at how beautiful the grounds were. I hadn't really noticed them earlier because of the unfortunate business of being surrounded by bright light, my muggle jasmine-scented perfume having attracted them. Wizarding perfume was overly priced, and muggle perfume was far cheaper, although mostly the same scent. Who would have thought that there actually would be a difference?

When I did make it back to the castle, I noticed Snape talking to Dumbledore. I wondered vaguely what they were talking about, and I saw Snape's eyes follow me, locked on mine, until Fleur Delacour walked by with some kid whose name I couldn't remember. Robert David, or Roger Davis, or Davies, or something. Snape glanced at them for a second, before returning his glance to me. There were other students around me, but I could tell he looked at me, just like I could tell in Potions class when our eyes met, and it was almost like I was the only one in class. I thought I'd heard Dumbledore say something about sorting too early, and then he drifted off in that almost ethereal way of his. He nodded at me as he passed, and I noticed for the first time in my life that Dumbledore had blue eyes. Then again, I'd never even been within thirty feet of Dumbledore, let alone talked to him, so I guess I wouldn't know the colour of his eyes. But, now that I had, they were a light blue that seemed to radiate . . . happiness, or something.

Snape had a very dazed expression on his face, similar to the one he got whenever I tossed my hair over my shoulder. I walked passed him, glancing over my shoulder, before I left the hall.

A few moments later, I heard his footsteps beside me. "Would you find it in any way offensive if I escorted you to the common room?" he asked, looked at me casually, as though he asked this to everyone.

"It's not offensive."

We were walking slowly, the halls empty and silent, the lights dim. I was starting to get nervous again, but it was a type of nervousness I liked. Nervous and excited at the same time.

"I never noticed Dumbledore had blue eyes before," I noted, while our shoulders bumped slightly as we walked.

"They have a habit of twinkling as well."

I nodded. A part of me wanted to ask what they'd been talking about, but it wasn't any of my business, and so I didn't. It was silent between us, but I didn't mind. He didn't seem to mind either, and our shoulders were bumping a bit too often for me to deem it accidental. Either he was doing it on purpose, or I was, or possibly both. It was probably just me, though. But he didn't seem to mind it too much.

"You are exceedingly beautiful, Miss Kensith. It seems you have outdone yourself for the event."

I blushed and looked down. I nudged him with my elbow and glanced at him flirtatiously. He had the tiniest half-smile on his face, and I noticed he looked down at his shoes, albeit very briefly.

"Thanks." I couldn't help but beam at him.

He nodded, I suppose as a way of saying I was welcome.

"Your other professors have expressed their gratitude in my help in your behaviour change. Apparently, you have returned to your normal self, if not kinder; more amiable."

"Yeah, well, I thought about what you said, and you were right. I couldn't go about changing myself; forcing myself to be someone else. I guess I never will be her."

He was silent for a moment. "There are similarities in your personality, as well as differences. It is nothing to be ashamed of. You even speak as her, at times; say things she once said. Yet, at the same time, you are different form her . . ." I frowned. Did I really say things she'd said before? Weird.

We walked in silence the rest of the way, our shoulders bumping as we did so. When we stopped in front of the Slytherin portrait, he turned towards me, and tilted his head slightly, his hands behind his back.

"I respect you as who you are, Miss Kensith, and I would not have you change that for any reason," he informed quietly, as though if he spoke any louder he would wake someone.

He could not have said anything else to have made me happier.

I took in a deep breath and nodded, a warm feeling spreading through my body. A warm sense of contentment that I hadn't felt since I was . . . Well, I couldn't ever really remember feeling whatever it was I was feeling now, but it was pleasant.

I leaned up and kissed him on the cheek quickly, trying to make it seem like a natural thing to do, although my insides were turning to jelly and the temperature sky-rocketed. My lips tingled when I pulled away, beaming up at him, hoping I didn't look cheesy. Although I had just kissed his cheek, I felt ecstatic to have had my lips on any part of his body, no matter how innocent.

He looked at me with bewilderment, like I had just grown another head. He blinked a few times and he arms moved from behind his back to his side. "You are very odd," he breathed, eyes narrowed slightly.

"Well, it's not the first time you've called me odd." I shifted a bit. He'd called me odd during the infamous ladder detention, when we were lying on our stomachs, and I'd called him alluring.

His mouth twitched. "Not an abundance of people call me alluring, Miss Kensith, nor kiss me on the cheek." It was awkward hearing him say it.

I smiled briefly, but warily. "Well, you deserve it."

He stared at me in that way he'd stared at me the time I'd given him his birthday present. The way I knew was for me, and I swear my heart soared.

"Goodnight, Professor."

Before I could leave he halted me. "I need to tell you something."

I felt suddenly nervous, although I wasn't sure if I expected something bad or something good, and I wasn't sure I wanted to hear it, whether or not it was pleasant.

"O-Okay . . ." I stuttered, hating myself for sounding anxious.

"You . . . You deserve to know. After all you have . . . Done, and been through . . . I cannot lie to you." I swallowed a lump in my throat. He seemed to be lsot in thought for a moment, then shook his head. "It isn't pleasant, Miss Kensith. Perhaps we should save it for another day. Good night." He went to leave.

"No, no, don't do that. You won't ruin this day--everything good that's happened, well . . . Nothing you say can take it back." He turned back to face me, and I panicked slightly. "I didn't mean to kiss you on the cheek. It was just . . . Impulse. And it wasn't meant as anything sexual, no, it was just a friend thing, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, please don't--"

He pressed his index finger on my lips, halting them at once. I stopped talking and stared into his eyes. He had called me beautiful earlier, and I could see in his eyes he really meant it. Having his finger against my lips made me think of that for some reason, and it spread that warm contentment through me again.

His finger lowered and curled itself under my chin, lifting my head slightly. When his thumb ran along my jaw line, I closed my eyes for a second. The back of his hand brushed along my cheekbones, and I kept my eyes closed, in fear I would see him staring at me like I was Lily, and I didn't want to see that. I leaned my head against his hand, and I wondered if he remembered me telling Draco if a girl did that, it was okay for him to probably kiss her.

He removed his hand form my face and I kept my eyes closed for a second, wondering if he was about to kiss me, and my stomach swooped slightly, but when I opened my eyes I saw that he was not.

"I apologize for having to tell you this, Miss Kensith, but as I said, you should know . . . You deserve to know."

I nodded, expecting him to tell me that I could no longer be seen with him; that I was confusing him too much, and he couldn't take it anymore. I expected him to tell me he was with McGonagall, or that I was to give up on this stupid little crush immediately. I expected the worst.

But what he said was so much worse than what I'd expected.

"The Dark Lord is returning."


	12. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: So It Begins

It was like a stab to the gut. Fear shot through me so suddenly I actually got nauseous, and I swayed slightly. The fear I felt whenever I thought about the possibility of him ever coming back reared up again, like I had felt it after the Dark Mark was shot up into the sky at the Quidditch World Cup, only this time, it was far more pronounced.

"What?" I managed after a second, still reeling.

"The Dark Lord is returning," he repeated, firmer than before.

And I sat. I literally sat down, right there in the hallway. I leaned my back against the cool, stone wall. I tried to control my breathing, but it just wasn't' happening. Why couldn't I have been indifferent, and proclaimed I would kill the bastard, and then moved on as if nothing had happened? Why couldn't I have been like Draco or Blaise and been ecstatic with the news? Was my life so different from theirs that my opinions were different? How was that even possible? Wasn't I a Slytherin? So why couldn't I be like them?

I felt like I was going to puke. I knew that I wasn't, but the feeling was unmistakeable. It was cold in the dungeons--colder than it had ever been, even though it was the end of December.

"When . . . When will he be back?" I asked feebly, staring at my flat sandals that were rather boring. Still, I focused on them intently, as if they were the most fascinating pair of shoes to exist. I couldn't look at Snape--not with fear etched into my face as I knew it was, and tears brimming my lids.

"It is hard to say. Nobody is certain." I nodded slowly, taking in deep, shaky breaths. "The Mark burns blacker, however, so it is undeniable."

I thought of my mother, prancing gleefully around the house, waiting around for the singe of her tattoo. Waiting for her Master's call. I remembered the looks on those muggles' faces whenever she shot the Death Curse at them; the fear and pain they'd proclaimed after each bout often Cruciatus; the way she spoke so highly of Sirius Black and Lucius and Narcissa and Bellatrix . . . The brief memories I had of my father . . . My mother constantly telling me stories of her glory days, how she had been accepted as part of his inner circle when she had killed her muggle husband . . .

Not every Death Eater had the Dark Mark. He had many followers who barely got a glimpse of him; those who received their orders through other. Only those in his Inner Circle had the Mark, only those he found worthy enough--those who had proved themselves, through some way or another. I wondered vaguely what Snape had done to get his, but I didn't' want to know enough to ask him. I wasn't sure I wanted to hear it, either. My mother had it, though--I had seen it. And she had received it because she had killed my dad; the dad I never got to know.

I pressed my palms against my eyes, feeling the wetness leak from underneath them. The cold fear travelled up and down my spine, but settled most in my stomach and on the back of my neck, where I could feel my hairs raise. It felt like tiny, freezing little pinpricks against the flesh there. The block of ice that was now my stomach churned unpleasantly, sending bile up my throat. I swallowed the lump it caused, my mouth suddenly dry.

You-Know-Who was coming back into the fold, to kill and torture and destroy. Who was to say he wouldn't succeed in taking over the world this time? Who was to say we wouldn't be forced to live in his fascist world where no one could have an opinion, lest it differs from his? Did any of his Death Eaters believe they would have any of his glory, if they won? Didn't they realize they were simply servants blinded by false visions of power? If they wanted power, why didn't they go get it themselves, instead of relying on some obviously crazy dictator? And how did he convince them of all this muggle-hating mudblood-loathing bullocks?

I tried not to let out a sob, but it came out anyway, although it was more of a breathy whimper. I pressed my palms against my eyes, willing it not to be true, somehow thinking that I could somehow turn it around just by not wanting him to be returning.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and I looked up from my palms. Snape was kneeling in front of me. For some reason I had expected him to feel awkward, having his hand on my shoulder, but he didn't seem uncomfortable at all. In fact, he seemed understanding--far more understanding that I would've thought.

"Your mother . . . Have you told her of my loyalties?"

I shook my head, knowing that if I actually opened my mouth to speak I would dissolve into sobs and probably not be able to speak coherently anyway. Of course I hadn't told my mother that Snape was loyal to Dumbledore.

"Have you ever conveyed your feelings on the matter to her?"

I cleared my throat and shrugged. "Once or twice, maybe, disagreed with her," I croaked, my voice barely audibly over the cracking on the low tones. "She doesn't listen to me."

He nodded slowly, then pulled his hand away from my shoulder. "I must ask you this, considering I have been quite open with you . . . What _are_ your feelings in regards to the Dark Lord?"

I wiped away the tears from my cheeks, although tears still leaked, and I was sure I had smeared my makeup everywhere. "How can you ask that? I ahte him! My mother killed my dad and forced me to watch her kill and torture muggles! And I always had to listen to her ramble on about all the stuff they'd envisioned and all the stuff they did!" I hiccupped, the wiped more tears away hastily. "I hate it."

"Have you conveyed these feelings to any of your housemates? Think, Miss Kensith. This is incredibly important."

I remembered last night, when Draco cornered me by his office, and interrogated me about what I thought of muggleborns. I'd been selfish and lied, saying I thought them disgusting, because he thought the same. What Snape must think of me. "No, they think I'm a good little muggle-hating witch." I looked at my shoes again and screwed up my face, fresh tears burning as my breath hitched. "I couldn't even stand up for my own beliefs. Such a coward . . ." I barely even heard my own whimpering tone.

"No, you may have just saved your life."

I looked at him, confused. What was he talking about. "You find yourself in a pivotal moment, Miss Kensith. One that could change not only your life, but thousands of others." I furrowed my brows at him. What was he talking about? "This is also something you will not wish to discuss, but we must. I was once in a moment similar as yours, and I regret I . . . made the wrong decision and have been making up for it ever since."

I didn't want anything else to think about! "No . . . I just wanna go to bed, okay? I don't know if I can deal with this."

"You must deal, Miss Kensith, and we _will_ discuss this, do you understand me?"

I stood up suddenly, my head spinning as I did so. The fear pulsed so strongly it brought anger along with it. "No! I can't do this! I'm not strong enough; I can't be in any pivotal spots or whatever! I can't! I'm not like you, Professor, okay? I can't be brave and strong like you! I'm just not like that, okay? This isn't standing up to my mum and arguing with her or arguing with you in class or letting the rst of the Slytherins say what they want about muggleborns! I can do that! But I can't--this is You-Know-Who, and I am just not built for that! I can't do anything in this situation! And you--you say I'm important, somehow? No! I can't be--I'm not Harry bleeding Potter! I can't stop him just by sitting there and drooling! I can't be this--this--pivotal whatever you're asking me to be! I don't want to talk about it, okay? In case you haven't noticed, my mum is a bleeding Death Eater! A Dark Mark, Inner Circle, bloody Death Eater! I don't want to know what you have to say or what you have to ask me because I am just not that person!"

Snape was standing now, glaring into my eyes. I don't know hwy he let me have such a long, loud tirade. "You will keep your tone pleasant," he ordered calmly.

Tears sprung in my eyes and ran down my face freely. "No . .. I'm not like you, I can't be special, okay? I just can't! I'm not ready! "My voice cracked and I sniffled, tears cascading. "I can't do it. I'm not good enough to be . . . I tried, remember? I tried. I'm just not her, okay? I can't be her, ever, and I can't be strong like she was or like you were. I can't. I don't want this. I don't want to be anywhere near this. Look what happened to her, and she was sodding perfect. Sodding . . . Bloody . . . Perfect," I managed through my thick tears.

My fear and anger and sadness at my situation just burst through and I let out a sob. I covered my mouth and shook my head, trying to keep calm. I was not going to break down in front of him. How could so many emotions be going through me in just one day? I had been ecstatic mere moments ago!

I turned away form him, hiding my tear-streaked, makeup-smeared, blotchy-red face. Nobody was attractive while crying, and that was all I had wanted to be today. I didn't want to know about you-Know-Who, or about any important decision I'd have to make that thousands of lives depended on. I had spent my life only caring about myself, and occasionally Draco, and recently Snape. I only made decision based on me. How could I do that now? Why did I have to be put in this situation?

Is this what Harry Potter felt like, having everyone look up to him? Did he even know You-Know-Who was coming back? That his parents had died, Lily had died, to protect him, for no reason at all; just for him to come back? What would he feel like, once he realized, if he did not know now?

I felt his hand on my back. "Forgive me, but we must. I wish I could allow you to continue on as nothing has happened. Do you think I wanted this to happen?" He sounded concerned; understanding. "As I said, you are in a pivotal position, and there are many decisions you will have to make. I pray you make the right one."

"How the hell will I know which one is right?" I rasped, the back of my eyes hurting from the pressure to keep the tears on a minimum and not burst into hysterics.

"I am not an expert in that."

I leaned my forehead against the stone. I felt overheated now. Too hot for comfort. This situation could not be real. It had to be a dream. I could not be in this situation. I wasn't that great of a duellist (as good as any other student) and yeah, okay, so I was a bit above average in the smarts department, but like that was going to help, really. I wasn't athletic at all. I couldn't even fly a broom and how hard could that be? I was not even a good Slytherin--sure, I could manipulate and lie, and I pretty much spoke my opinion whenever I liked. Unless it involved the whole muggleborn thing. I never offered my opinion then. Was it because I felt ashamed of it? Why should I? The one thing I had a hard time telling the truth about, being blunt and open about, and that was the one thing that had saved me. How ironic was that? And Snape--not even Snape--knew what to do. He claimed he wasn't an expert. So how? How could I compare to him, or Lily, or James, or any of the other countless people who had fought in the previous war?

I turned back around tried to jut my jaw out as Draco usually did, trying to look defiant, cocky, whatever. But I really wanted to just curl up in a ball and never do anything again. That's how much You-Know-Who scared me. The fear gnawed at me, like some sort of parasite feeding on me. I remembered this sickening sensation form when I would contemplate him after the World Cup.

He stared at me, and I saw faint frown lines, and concern in those dark eyes. "I can't ever be like you or her, sir."

"I realize this. And I do not wish for you to become either. You must do what you need to; not what we would have done. You are not Lily, and you should not feel you have to become her. And you should not ever wish to become me. You must do only what you must, and nothing more. But you must do something."

"What do you expect of me?" I asked quietly. Whatever he wanted me to do, I would do it. I did not want to make this decision. I just wanted to be told what to do. I did not want to bollix anything up. I didn't even care if that meant giving up the reins.

"I expect nothing of you."

Somehow, that seemed to make things at least the tiniest bit better.

He looked me over, and I went to his side. I nodded slowly. I wish he could tell me what to do still, but what he had said did hold a little comfort.

After I nodded, he let out a small sigh. "We must speak with Dumbledore. Come."

We walked through the castle, the silence heavy and depressing, but I had no desire to talk. Or think, really. But my brain proved to be stubborn, and thought anyway. Thought of the horrible things I would probably witness, again, just like when I was little.

After what seemed like hours, we were going inside a griffon and travelling upstairs to what I assumed was Dumbledore's office. After Snape knocked, a door opened, and Dumbledore stood behind it, looking at me over he half-moon spectacles.

"Come in," he invited. We both walk in, and I had a stuffy headache, and my eyes throbbed. My body felt weak, too, and my head was feverish.

Dumbledore drew up two chairs, and Snape sat in one and I sat in the other.

"Sherbet lemon?" he offered, indicating a bowl of candy on his desk I hadn't noticed before.

Although it might seemed silly, I nodded, reached forward, and took one. Then I plopped it in my mouth. I felt a little childish, but I guess fifteen really wasn't that old. And they did taste good.

Snape declined.

"You may help yourself to more, if you desire to do so," he told me, smiling gently, like some old grandfather reminiscing. How old was Dumbledore anyway?

I nodded while I suck on the hard candy. I felt really awkward, sitting in the Headmaster's office. We had never even spoke to each other.

He procured a handkerchief and handed it over to me. "You may keep that. I find I have far too many." His light bleu eyes found mien and twinkled ominously. I had never seen that before. Much be an old grandfather thing, again.

I could tell by the way Snape was sitting, back straight, arms in his lap, lips turned up in a scowl and eyes narrowed, that he wanted to burst out with the entire story, but he was patient, and kept his mouth shut. It seemed that he respected Dumbledore.

"Now, Severus, Danielle--do you mind if I call you Danielle?"

I shifted uncomfortably. The Headmaster really shouldn't need to ask me permission for anything. I nodded. "Er, yeah, sure. Danielle is fine." I was surprised he actually knew my name.

"After all that Severus has said about you, I feel as though I know you already."

I blinked a few times, then glanced at Snape. He was resolutely not looking at me.

"Now, if you are both willing, you may say whatever it is you came to say."

The both of us recounted the story. I felt a little awkward telling Dumbledore about my mother, and how living with her was, and how she adored Sirius Black and all those wonderful little murderous bits about her. I explained that I did not want to live her life. Snape filled in everything that had happened tonight, although he (thankfully) left out the bit about me freaking out and crying, and (most definitely and obviously also thankfully) that we had danced.

I didn't understand the implications of all this, but Dumbledore did apparently. He must've known this pivotal position I was in although I did not understand myself. Why did Snape have to tell me? Why couldn't he have let me find out whenever You-Know-Who decided to present himself? Why did he have to be such a mood killer? Why did I have to know?

Dumbledore stood up and began pacing for awhile, his long silver hair and beard trailing behind him as he did so. He seemed very deep in thought. I didn't know what to do--it just seemed weird that Dumbledore would be pacing and not talking to us. Snape seemed indifferent, so he must've done it a lot.

Finally, he resumed sitting in his seat, and looked at me very seriously over his half-moon spectacles. "Danielle, you are in a most . . . Interesting, and dangerous, position. I am not here to make the decision for you, but you do have several. Choose wisely, dear, because it will affect everything in your life."

God, why did I have to deal with this? I just wanted to pretend I never found out. Why did I have to know, really?

"Can I . . . Can I say something?" I asked, feeling weird. Should I try and make a plan with the Headmaster--the headmaster that everyone knew was the only person you-Know-Who ever feared? What could I possibly say that would make any sense, compared to what he could come up with?

"Of course you may. You might bring up something that I overlooked."

I really doubted I could think of anything he had not, as long as he had been pacing. "Well, couldn't' we just tell everyone he was coming back? Get prepared?"

Dumbledore sighed, and gave me a very wistful glance. "If only it were that simple. You see, that would only cause panic, or disbelief. And it would be most dangerous. But it was a very good idea."

Actually, it was a crap idea, but it was nice of him to pretend otherwise.

"Danielle, you have some choices. See as you live with your mother, who _is_ in Voldemort's Inner Circle, it is possible she will try to get you to join as well." My heart stopped. I hadn't thought of that. "Now, it appears, you know something very valuable, and dangerous, about Severus. If that knowledge were to get to him . . . So you see why you had to be informed."

I nodded slowly. Why did I have to see that damn patronus? Why did I have to look like Lily?

"You could go into hiding, and of course, I mean fully hiding--you would not be able to return to school, or leave the place I assign you. I have a place set aside for such circumstances; in fact, I have someone there as we speak. You are familiar with the Fidelius Charm, yes?"

I nodded. It sounded a bit like prison, but it was safe.

"Or--and this is highly dangerous, and I by no means will force you to do this--you could . . . Help our side. Become, as Severus was and will be again, a spy. You would have to play your part well, being as there are many in your house who are truly under Voldemort's, ah, influence. It is far from easy, and is extremely dangerous, but it is useful. You would have to learn Occlumency and Legilimency from Severus here. Are you familiar with the terms?"

I nodded. "I, uh, read about them briefly, but not anything really, um, epic, or anything."

"There is a third choice, but I doubt you will choose it. You could decide to follow your mother's lifestyle and become part of the Inner Circle. That would, of course, pit you against us, and I would be forced not to allow that to pass--seeing as you know about Severus."

"I don't want anything to do with You-Know-Who." I noticed Dumbledore said his name, and it surprised me. No one used his name.

"Then that leaves you two choices. Choose wisely. Anything you choose, I will whole-heartedly support, and try my best to aide you. But consider carefully--this is not something to decide on impulse."

My first instinct was to hide. But could I really stay cooped up for God knows how long? Years? Decades? What if You-Know-Who won? I was familiar with the Fidelius Charm--any person who knew the location would, in turn, become a Secret-Keeper. What if the original Secret-Keeper died, and nobody in the hiding spot knew? What if one was a traitor? Would I die in hiding, forever waiting to be freed? And could I really afford to miss school? I had never had real friends, besides Draco and whatever Snape was, but could I stand truly being alone? He had mentioned someone was there now--what if we didn't get along?

But being a spy, that was far from what I wanted. I did not want to look You-Know-Who in the eye and speak with him. I did not want anything to do with Death Eaters, and live a life of danger. Some people wanted an adventure. I didn't. Sure, I wanted romance and drama, yeah, but explosions, death, blood? I did not want that. And was I really able to do that? I didn't want to die, or be the reason of others' deaths.

Last year, I would have chosen hiding, because I did not care about anyone besides myself. But now, I found I cared for Snape, and I did somewhat for Draco although he was probably signing up eagerly to be a Death Eater. I cared for them ,and wanted to help them--help thousands of other people, who cared for others, like I cared.

But, I still wasn't sure I could handle being a spy. I wasn't anything special--not at all. How could that be even possible? But I had to do something. I couldn't do nothing.

Hiding seemed safer, and smarter. But being a spy, well, that was helpful. But could I do it? Snape would help me, wouldn't he?

I wanted very much to hide. I wanted very much to run.

But I always had a small, nagging sensation telling me I could do something to help--change the world, even--save thousands of people. I wanted to _help._ I had never experienced that before, nto to this extent. Sure, I had helped Pansy, and Dennis, but this was far different.

But I would be helpful. Important. I would have power over my destiny, rather than hide and have that control me. I would trick You-Know-Who, and have power over him, in a weird way.

Yes, but hiding would equal staying alive, even if it was dull and boring and lasted until I died of old age. And staying alive, well, that was a very tempting offer.

I had been complaining I was selfish awhile ago, that I wasn't deserving of this body. I thought of how brave Lily had been, knowing I could never be that way, and now was a real chance to be like her.

But she had gone into hiding, hadn't she? And look where that had gotten her. Even the Fidelius Charm was not entirely safe, and what a waste it would be to just die, thinking I had done the right thing . . .

I remembered Snape telling me I was not Lily, and I never would be. And I should be myself.

And I wanted power. Power over you-Know-Who, power over my life. And, oddly, power over thousands of other lives,--the power to save. I would manipulate the Master Manipulator himself.

Still, life . . . Hiding . . . Lily had not had the choice I had, she did not have a way into the Death Eaters.

I was not Lily. I would never be her. Lily had died, in some way because of Snape, at the hands of You-Know-Who. But in my position, would she still hide? She had been pregnant with Harry, or at least just given birth.

I had no child to take care of.

Harry. Harry Potter would have to fight You-Know-Who. I don't know how I knew that, but I just did. It came to me suddenly, just like realizing I had a crush on Snape.

I don't know what made me do it--the power thing, the manipulating thing, or Lily, or Harry, or the prospect of how brave Snape was and how similar we were.

"I'll be the spy," I murmured, a long, long time later. Fear of death and fear of making a stupid decision filled me, but I had made my choice.

For some reason, Snape reacted. He moved slightly and he glanced at me, and his mouth twitched, but I didn't know if was a smile or not.

Dumbledore nodded. "Severus will inform you of your Occlumency lessons, which you should try and master as quickly as possible. If you cannot grasp that concept before Voldemort returns, you will have to go into hiding until you learn and then, perhaps, you may become a double-agent."

I nodded solemnly, feeling light-headed and nauseous.

"It is rather late, and I am sure you would like a good night's sleep. Severus, you will escort her?"

"Yes, Headmaster."

He nodded at the both of us, and we said our goodbyes.

We walked through the hallways in silence, me thinking of how my life would change drastically from this point on. I knew I must've looked horrible, with my makeup smeared and my eyes red. I had looked so pretty too. Still, dancing with Snape, it seemed appropriate to have the happiest moment of my old life end before I start my new life.

My eyes were prickling when I thought of dying at the hands of you-Know-Who. What if I screwed it all up, and ruined everything? What if I wasn't able? Tears ran down my face silently.

When we made it to the portrait, I sighed. I turned to him knowing I looked like a wet rat. Btu I didn't care. I was more concerned about what my life was about to become.

"I have the utmost respect for you," Snape said, looking deep into my eyes.

I folded my arms and sniffled, the tears coming again. "I'm afraid." My voice cracked. "I don't want to die. I don't want anyone to die. I don't want _you_ to die."

He tilted his head to the side and stepped closer. "People will. Just make sure it isn't you."

I nodded, then sniffled again, tears coming up quicker. This was so difficult. Was it like this for Snape too? But he had switched sides, because You-Know-Who had killed Lily. What did I know of sacrifice? Why was I crying?

I went to turn away form him so I could cry in peace, and not feel ashamed for bawling in front of him. HE grabbed my arm and pulled me to him. I frowned up at him, then he brushed away my tears with his hands. "You should not be ashamed to cry. I have. You've seen me."

I tried to walk away, but he put his arm around my waist to prevent me from doing so. I frowned at him. "Please, sir, I just want to--"

"Miss Kensith, please--"

"Look, I just want to--"

"Listen to me, Miss Kensith. There is no shame in--"

I tried to pull away, although I was not trying as much as I could have, considering he was brushing tears away from my face. "You shouldn't have to deal with me, sir, so I'll just go cry in my room."

"Miss--"

I was struggling slightly, the tears running faster, my throat clogging up. "Just let me--"

"Danielle," he said, firmly.

I stopped moving. He called me by my first name. he had never done that before. It was new, and extremely different . . . but I liked it. He said it differently than Lupin had. He said it intensely, as if he knew how important it was.

"_Danielle," _he began again, "you were kind to me, the night Mother died. At least allow me to respond appropriately."

I nodded slowly, then I buried my head in his chest , and sobbed, while he stroked my hair and held me close. I was aware of how he held me and pat my hair, and it was just as comforting as me letting out all of my fear and worry through tears. Perhaps this was the last moment of my old life.

At least it looked like we would become closer in my new one.

* * *

A/N--Sorry if this one seems rushed, but my mother is freaking out and wants me to leave RIGHT THE HELL NOW and so she won't give me time to edit it. If there are any glaring errors, let me know. I'll be gone this weekend, but I will try to get an interenet connection. It isn't my fault I got hit with inspiration right before I had to leave.


	13. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Bewitch the Mind

The rest of Christmas Break passed uneventfully, except for when Snape informed me that I would be having Occlumency lessons every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, right after dinner, staring on the ninth of January. His birthday. I wondered if there was a reason behind him picking his birthday for our first lesson, but it was possible there wasn't.

I had searched my stuff and dormitory for my Occlumency book, and although it was boring, I read through some of the theory. It consisted of blocking one's thoughts for external influence and intrusion, and Legilimency consisted of the ability to intrude other's minds, and for those highly talented, influence. It most talked about the theory of where it came from, and how it was discovered, more than how to do it. All I managed to gather from the highly boring text was that I had to control my emotions or my thoughts. A truly skilled legilimens is able to tell when someone in lying by 'seeing' a memory that proves the lie false, without the liar being aware. A skilled occlumens is able to lock that memory away and make up a fake memory that proves the lie true. Or something. I couldn't quite understand it, but I know it had something to do with emotions. And, normally, Occlumency is easier than Legilimency.

I held my book close to my chest while I searched through my bag of important papers, trying to find the letter my mother had written me--I had kept my mother's letter, simply because I knew it held important information, although hat the time I didn't know what it was. I knew now it was the references to Lily, but I'd been to lazy to throw it away. Since I had gone through my stuff, I needed to organize it again, so it wouldn't hurt to through away what I didn't need anymore.

When I pulled out my note, I tore it in half and used a spell to burn the parchment before throwing it in the bin. When I returned to my important papers, I saw that the picture of me that Snape had drawn was sticking out half-way.

A horrible through struck me. When I received this, I knew I looked similar to Lily, but I hadn't known exactly how much. I grabbed the picture of me, leaning forward, my hair flopping slightly on the desk, my lips in a slightly scowl, and my green eyes narrowed. What if he hadn't been drawing me? What if he'd been drawing her? Well, obviously he meant to draw me, but what if . . . His memory obscured his vision of me? Although he had extremely similar features, there were differences--enough to tell us apart. Enough for me to know who he had in his mind while he drew me.

I searched some more until I found that picture of Lily and Snape playing around together. They looked about fourteen or fifteen--the same age as me. I held the picture next to Snape's portrait, not sure if I wanted to know or not. Lily laughed and spun in a circle, her wavy, red hair spinning around her head, her mouth wide in laughter, while Snape stared adoringly at her.

I compared me to her, staring at her moving body and my still drawing. Lily's hair was wavy, and mien was straight. I let out a sigh of relief, and felt even better when I noticed he's drawn my button-nose crinkling slightly. Lily's nose didn't crinkle, and it was straight and perfect. Out shins were different, too, and she had slightly higher cheekbones than I did, which gave her head the oval shape whereas mien was round.

I couldn't help but smile. He'd drawn _me,_ not her.

With a lighter feeling in my chest, I put the portrait away and went to put away the picture, but I stopped. Today was our first lesson, and Snape really did deserve this picture. Today was his birthday, and it seemed like an appropriate gift.

I knew Snape would never feel for me as I felt for him. Not just because I was a student and he was a teacher, not to mention I was half his age, but because he would always love Lily--and since I looked so much like her, it would be more difficult for him to ever see me--really see me. Obviously he could tell a difference, since the portrait was of me and not her, but it didn't mean he would ever really be able to see someone other than Lily when he stared into my eyes.

Every time I thought of that, it made my chest hurt.

He did like me, though. I knew he did. He didn't like me as I liked him, but there was something there. Even if it was just a friendship thing, or a daughter thing, or a favourite-student-other-than-Draco thing, he did like me. I knew it, because I didn't really imagine Snape comforting just anyone.

Thinking about how he had held me while I cried into his chest always made me smile. I loved how he'd held me so gently, and how he ran his fingers through my hair and kept his other arm around my waist snugly. He didn't even mind that I had clutched his robes, or made them wet with my tears. Afterwards, he'd even brushed away my damp hair from my eyes and told me I was brave. He didn't even make a comment on how much I looked like a wet rat. It surprised me how gentle he could be, and how good he smelled, considering he did work around so many ingredients (and not all of them had pleasant aromas, either) and that he hadn't minded me acting like whiny baby. Normally he wasn't patient with students like that. He wasn't a very patient person, except for when it came to brewing.

I put the picture of them in my robes and held my book to my chest. He hadn't assigned any material, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to bring a book just in case.

I walked into the common room, to see Draco and Pansy cuddling on the couch. Pansy was asleep, but Draco was awake, with a lazy half-smile on his face while he stroke her hair. I smiled at that, feeling half-jealous, half-content to see it. I wanted to have a relationship with Snape--however doomed that fantasy was--so it made me sad to see what I couldn't have, yet I was so happy for them I couldn't help but smile. It was strange.

Draco, very carefully, pulled away from Pansy. When he made sure she still slept soundly, he walked over to me. He grabbed my arm, gentle but firm enough to lead me, and walked me away from most of the crowd.

"Is everything all right?" he asked me quietly, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Yeah, everything's fine, why?" I glanced down at my book. Its cover was facing my chest, so he couldn't tell what it was about. Snape told me to keep my lessons private.

"Well . . . ever since the Yule Ball, you've been . . . odd. Can't place what's different about you, but something definitely is."

I shifted my weight onto my other foot. Snape told me that I would have to make my peers think I was planning on working with You-Know-Who and that I was to start calling him the Dark Lord. It felt wrong, letting people know I would work for that psychopath, but to them it would be the right thing. "Well, my mother told me about . . . Well, the Dark Lord is returning. She can feel it, through the Dark Mark. You've been acting differently too."

He had been, although he'd been different for a bit longer than me. I couldn't place what about him was different, but something was. I hadn't noticed it until he pointed it out on me, though.

"And? I'm going to join him--what about you?"

I could hear the firmness in his question.

"Of course I am. My mother didn't raise a mudblood-lover." I hated that word. It made me want to gag. This was the second time in my life I'd said it, and it wasn't any easier or more pleasant than the first time I'd said it.

He let out a sigh and I saw him nod. "Oh, good. I was afraid you were gonna pick the wrong side for awhile. I was afraid for you. I didn't want anything to happen to you--and I didn't want you to be blinded by those idiots who follow Dumbledore. I would hate to have to think twice before hating you. Even then, I'm not sure I could _really_ hate you. Just like I don't really like Blaise, even though we have similar values." He snarled slightly at the mention of Blaise.

I'm not quite sure why, but what he'd said touched me. I did not agree with his values, yet I did like him. It was strange. I think I liked how he was so blunt.

I smiled at him, and it was a real smile. "Well, thanks for caring." He nodded once, and I squeezed his shoulder in a friendly way. "But you don't need to worry about me."

He nodded briefly, and walked back over to the couch, rearranging Pansy so that they were cuddling again. Pansy seemed to get a little sleepy before dinner. It was weird, since normally people got sleepy after. But she didn't eat much anyway, and sometimes she didn't even go to dinner.

I generally tried to get to dinner early, so I could pick the better seats. Somehow it had become common knowledge that Draco and his group sat next to me without me realizing it, and so, by default, I saved them a seat too. I guess I should get used to hanging out with them, since I had to play the part convincingly. Not that I minded Draco, but his other friends . . . When I imagined having conversations with Crabbe and Goyle, I found yet another reason to pray You-Kno--I mean, the Dark Lord to botch his return and die in the process.

Snape opened his office door for me and told me to sit. I sat in front of his desk, holding my book to my chest, thinking of the picture of him and Lily in my robes.

"Happy birthday," I said.

He nodded at me, and his mouth twitched upward for a second.

"Would you care to explain to me just what you know about Occlumency?" he ordered calmly, staring into my eyes as he did so.

I explained to him what I'd read in the book my mother had given me, and I even handed him the book. When he picked it up and flipped through the pages idly, sneering slightly, I felt a lurch in my stomach region. I didn't want to seem like a moron, but judging by the look on his face, he wasn't pleased.

"I've read this book. I didn't like it." He tossed it aside, although in a very casual way, and looked back at me. "I found it extremely dull, and not useful in training in any way. However, I commend any efforts you've made towards the class beforehand. It would have been most irritating had you not known anything."

I felt a little better after hearing that.

"You are at a slight disadvantage in the area of Occlumency, Danielle."

So he was still calling me by my first name. I tried not to, but I smiled briefly. "Oh. Why is that, Professor?"

"When you have an emotion, you express it, passionately. One must learn to control and hide emotions in order to learn to control and hide thoughts. Thoughts and memories can be extracted far easier if one does not have control over one's emotions."

I nodded, feeling a little ashamed. How would I stop showing emotion, though? It was part of who I was.

"It may be difficult, but it is necessary."

I nodded once more.

"Most especially around those who are gifted in Legilimency, such as myself. As much as I know you will not wish to hear this, but . . . It has been quite easy to read you. Have you never realized how I could always sense your lies?"

I shifted in my chair uncomfortably. I was torn between being angry with him for reading into my thoughts, and happy that he knew I was lying through Legilimency and not because I was a horrible liar.

He regarded me for a few moments. "Please stand."

I did, then dusted off my robes, although there wasn't any dust on them.

"Wand out."

Feeling extremely awkward about having my wand pointed at Snape, I smiled nervously at him. I felt even more nervous when he pointed his wand at me.

"I am going to break into your mind. You are going to attempt to block me."

"Er . . . How will I do that?"

He didn't answer my question. "On the count of three. One . . . two . . ."

"But how--"

"Three. Legilimens!"

I was comparing the picture of Snape and Lily to the portrait he drew of me . . . I was dancing with Snape, looking into his face adoringly . . . Mother was hitting a muggle with the Killing Curse while I screamed for her to stop it . . . Mother was talking with Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy animatedly while they shared glances of annoyance and I shook my head . . .

There was a sting in my knees and I was back in Snape's office, kneeling before him on the cold floor of his office. There was an odd feeling in my head, almost stuffy.

I stood up and cleared my throat, feeling embarrassed.

"You must learn to clear your mind of emotion, Danielle, otherwise I will break into your mind with absurd ease. Remember, to clear your mind of all emotion. Let's try again. One . . . two . . . three . . . Legilimens!"

I was crying into Snape's chest while he stroked my hair . . . I was in Snape's arms, having fallen from the ladder, and we were leaning in to kiss . . . I was dancing with Draco at the Yule Ball, keeping our respectful distance . . . A group of young kids surrounded just-as-young me, laughing and pointing at me, while I ducked my head and tried to move past them . . .

Once again, I was kneeling on the floor, and a sound died away I recognized as a scream, and my throat was suspiciously dry. So I had screamed, at least a little.

I stood back up and felt even more embarrassed, and a little dizzy too. I wasn't sure how to block him out. I wished he'd tell me.

"Sorry," I murmured, feeling stupid for not being able to block him out at least a little.

He just raised his eyebrow at me. "I had not expected much better. Perfection on a first lesson would have been truly exceptional . . . Impossible, in my opinion. However, considering the Dark Lord's reappearance could be at any time, we must try and learn this quickly." Even though his words sounded understanding, there was an impatient, annoyed bite in his tone.

I sighed and tried to calm my beating heart, and the fact I was annoyed that I couldn't just be great at it. It was maddening--not being able to just block him out easily. Hell, I didn't even know how to block my mind in the first place.

We continued for awhile after that, and I didn't get any better. He broke into my mind easily and saw my memories, some of which I'd rather not share. Obviously I thought about him a lot, but I didn't realize how much until there seemed to be more memories of him than anything else--sometimes just memories of me watching him walk, or eat, or teach class.

After the lesson, I sat across from him, with a headache. I sneered at him, angry that he wasn't exactly forthcoming on how to clear my mind of all thoughts. "Well, that went splendidly," I muttered sarcastically.

"Practice clearing your mind each night before sleep."

I nodded, although I doubted I'd be able to clear my mind any better then. Although I might not be as irritated then, so maybe it would work. I couldn't help the sneer, either.

"I will see you Wednesday."

I stood out of the chair and searched through my robes quietly. I pulled out the picture and looked at the teenaged Snape once more, before placing the picture on his desk. "Here. I thought you might like this. Happy birthday again, sir."

He stared at the picture, with his black eyes glittering his mouth open slightly. I wanted to stare at his loving face, at how intense he was, and wait for his thanks, but I was too embarrassed and I felt weird watching him stare at Lily lovingly, so I just muttered a goodbye and left the room quickly.

Tuesday night at dinner, Snape kept staring at me. He wasn't even trying to hide it. Though I guess it wasn't that much of a surprise, since recently we kept eye contact in class while he taught. I remembered that eye contact was important in Legilimency and wondered if he was trying to see memories, but I didn't know why he would. I wasn't lying about anything, so what thoughts could he be trying to procure?

After a few moments of our eyes meeting, I looked back down at my dinner and cleared my throat, feeling strange. Why was he staring at me that way?

"Everything all right?" Pansy asked.

I glanced up at her, and furrowed my eyebrows. Pansy didn't talk to me. Ever. In fact, normally she glared at me. Even after the Yule Ball, she didn't seem particularly kind. She wasn't mean, though; not anymore.

"Oh, yeah, just . . . well, that lesson didn't go well yesterday."

"Oh yeah, Draco told me about that." She shrugged, then began eating, but I did notice her eyes were narrowed and her mouth was up in a curl.

I had to tell everyone Snape was helping me with Defence Against the Dark Arts, mainly because everyone knew I was good in potions, and Moody seemed to dislike me more than any other student. Snape told me Moody had a thing for 'Death eaters who got away' and their children. Btu he was even ruder to me than he was to Draco, but I didn't know why. I was actually doing well in that class, but nobody had to know that, so the lie was believable enough.

Draco tilted his head at me curiously, glanced up at the table (presumably at Snape, who was looking directly at me) then focused on me again. "You two fight or something?"

"We argued, yes," I lied easily, raising an eyebrow at him.

Draco shrugged, then returned to his food, but I could tell he was thinking deeply about something.

Instead of wondering what Draco was thinking about, I kept glancing at Snape, while Crabbe and Goyle had a thumb war and Nott tried engaging Draco into a conversation about some book he'd read, but Draco didn't sound interested. Snape didn't care that I knew he was looking at me, and I couldn't help but stare right back and feel my stomach swoop pleasurably.

I was walking back from the library, holding a book on Occlumency that I hoped would help me tomorrow. Normally I would have just learned without extra help, but Snape was right and the Dark Lord could return at any moment. It was a bit scary how easily I could refer to You-Know-Who as the Dark Lord.

I would have stayed longer to read up on it there, but then Madam Pince told me it was past curfew and I had to leave.

I was nearing the dungeons when I saw Snape. I nodded at him and smiled. I was about to say a greeting of some type, when he stepped closer than he probably should have. I was now about to ask him what he was doing, but then he held my shoulders and pressed me against the door to his personal storeroom.

He was staring down at me intensely, as if trying to convey something without using words .When I was about to question him, he shook his head. He opened the door behind me and slipped in, his chest brushing mine, and I felt dazed, with a lazy smile on my face.

Feeling slightly bubbly and light, I followed him into the storeroom, to hear voices and footsteps just down the hall. So that was why Snape had told me to be quiet--it was after curfew.

Snape stood right in front of me. We waited for them to pass, their voices rather loud. I recognized them as the Head Boy and Girl. Of course, I had no objection standing right in front of Snape, my back against the door, his scent almost overpowering. I loved it--I had no idea what it was, but I loved it. When their voices stayed loud, I realized that they were stopping for a chat right outside Snape's personal storeroom. Which meant that we couldn't leave, and obviously Snape had brought me in here to hide me. Which meant I was stuck with him.

Any other person in the school might have found this torturous, but I managed to cook up very inappropriate scenarios in my head that would make most blush. Even I was blushing.

He was staring down at me with that intense gaze, an emotion I didn't recognize in his eyes. I wish I could've said I could meet his eyes, but I felt awkward, and I looked away, focusing mainly on his chest. I was breathing heavily. The voices on the other side of the door faded away as the blood whooshing past my ears intensified in sound.

"Danielle."

I made an odd noise that was supposed to let him know I heard him.

"I cannot accept your gift," he whispered so quietly I almost didn't hear him.

I finally looked him in the eyes, confused. I thought he would enjoy the picture. The fact that it was swelteringly hot despite the fact we were in the dungeons was irritating, and my heart was already pounding in my chest from having him so near me, so fear added to my complex mix of emotions. I wanted him so desperately to like my gift.

"What? Why?" I breathed.

He sighed and I felt his breath on my face, since we were standing very close and he was looking down at me while I looked up. "I can never repay you. The gift is far too great, and I cannot accept being unable to repay you."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "You're not offended?"

The Head Boy and Girl both laughed extremely loud at that moment, and I jumped. My chest brushed his when I did so, and I was reminded of our closeness.

"Of course not. But I must return it."

"No!" I whispered harshly, shaking my head. "You can't. I wanted you to have it. It means more to you than it'll mean to me."

"Danielle, I cannot--"

"You don't need to worry about paying me back, all right? I don't care about that sort of stuff. I care about giving you a gift you love--being able to make you happy." His eyes searched my face and I realized how like a love-struck girl I sounded like. "It's a weird power thing, I'm sure. Completely Slytherin," I added hastily. It _was_ sort of a power thing--being able to have control over someone's feelings--so I guess it wasn't a complete lie. Still, wanting to do that showed I had feelings for him, and I didn't want him to know. Could someone gifted at Legilimency see feelings or just memories?

"You wanted it for yourself, I thought?"

I shrugged stiffly, still unable to calm my heart. And why was the room so hot? "Not really. You looked so happy in that picture and I just . . . I wanted you to feel that again. You're not upset, though?" He shook his head and my breath hitched in my throat. "You're happy with it?" I croaked.

"Overwhelmingly so," he murmured.

Just then, the door opened suddenly, the sounds of snogging suddenly audible. It smacked my back and forced m against Snape, he stumbled before leaning forward and smacking his hand on the door, slamming it shut.

"Sorry, didn't know it was already occupied," came the faint voice of the Head Boy.

Snape's hand was still pressed against the door, but I was leaning against him and my arms were around his chest, so my back was not against the door anymore.

I looked up tentatively at him, smiling warily. I stepped away form him and felt my back against the wood. The fiery look in his eyes normally would have frightened me, but this time, they didn't. They weren't fiery with anger. Perhaps that was why.

"Sorry," I muttered, although I wasn't sure why.

"It wasn't your fault."

We stared at each other, me staring at his mouth, wanting to kiss him so badly I almost threw caution out the window and did. Almost.

"You can make me the happy, sir, so don't worry about it," I managed weakly, finally meetign his eyes again, hoping he didn't notice I had stared at his mouth although I don't know how he would've missed it considering he was looking right at me.

He nodded slowly, but didn't say anything for a few moments. "You really must learn to control your emotions, Danielle. My intrusion into your mind is absurdly easy." He quirked his eyebrow and the side of his tempting curled upward.

I nodded jerkily, swallowing the lump in my throat. "O-Okay." My eyes wouldn't leave his, although I told them to, and I repeatedly reminded myself that eye contact was often crucial in Legilimency.

"I will see you in our lesson tomorrow evening, yes?"

I nodded jerkily, my throat too dry to talk. I was suddenly reminded of the time I'd fallen off that ladder for no apparent reason.

"You should probably go to the common room now."

I swallowed the heavy lump in my throat as I stared at his face, at his high cheekbones and intense eyes. "I-I can't, sir."

"Why is that?" he inquired quietly, leaning closer.

Oh, God, I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to just lean up and press my mouth against his. It would be so easy, just like kissing his cheek had been. But my body would not move.

"Your hand is on the door."

He didn't move. For the longest time, he stared at me, face expressionless, eyes roaming over my face. Just as I had gathered up the courage and was about to kiss him, he stepped away from me and indicated the doorknob.

I opened the door and he followed me out. The temperature out here was far cooler and I almost shivered.

We walked in opposite directions--he was probably patrolling the corridors--and I allowed myself to breath heavily. I thought I heard Moody mumbling behind me, but I shoved that thought out of my mind when I shut the portrait behind me and I was safely in my common room, the green lamps hanging form the slightly domed ceiling. There was a late-night studier sitting in one of the high-backed chairs, but he paid me no mind and other than him, I was alone.

Honestly, how did I expect to keep my emotions in check when Snape was the one teaching me?

* * *

A/N--Sorry it took a long time for me to update. I was at my mother's all weekend, and she doesn't have a computer.


	14. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Valentines Day

I hate Valentines Day. Out of all the holidays in the year, I hated this one more than any other. Really, a day to celebrate _love?_ Sure, it was a nice thought, a nice intention, but really, who decided to sit back and say "Oh, hmm, I think we should make a holiday specifically to give lovers a chance to love the fact they're in love! Yeah!" Seriously. That's probably the dumbest idea for a holiday I've ever heard. Why should they love each other any more on a day that really doesn't have any special meaning to them personally? Unless it just happened to be their anniversary as well . . . Also, the whole 'gift-giving, chocolate-eating, card-receiving' tradition was total bullocks. Any other day, it was free for the lovers to kiss and show that they loved each other--on this day, it had to be _earned._

This attitude does not come from the fact I've never received a Valentine in my life, nor does it come from the fact I've never had a boyfriend. Or been kissed. NO, this attitude has nothing to do with those simple facts at all.

Maybe just a little.

In primary school, every teacher I ever had made it mandatory to pass out valentines and make little boxes to receive the valentines in. I spent hours making a valentine for each student, one that would fit the student perfectly, and what did I get in return? Nothing. Not a single scrap of paper, or chocolate, or anything.

I always had to hear the same story too, which I wasn't even sure if it was true or nt. A story of Saint Valentine, who worked as a one-man postal service, passing Valentines between monks and nuns, who were forbidden to show their loves. Obviously--they were monks and nuns! Don't become a monk/nun if the idea of celibacy is daunting! I wasn't even sure if the story was real. Certainly it was supposed to appeal to my romantic side, and yes, I was romantic, but being as I'd never been in a romance, perhaps I was a bit cynical too, and it just wasn't romantic to me to have monks and nuns pass love notes back and forth through some poor Saint (and how was he a saint if he broke dogmatic law, anyway?) when they weren't supposed to in the first place? I'm sure it was a lie.

Besides, it was just a cheap gimmick to gain money through buying valentines and chocolates and candies and gifts anyway. It was a lovely idea, yeah, but I hated it anyway. Until I had someone to share this holiday with, it was as pointless as Care of Magical Creatures.

And yes, I was in a bad mood, just as I was every Valentines Day.

I sat in one of the high-back chairs, watching the fire dance. There were several students in the common room, going over all the valentines they'd received, and gifts. Blaise was wooing several girls at one time, and bragging about how popular he was, while they flaunted themselves and glared at each other. I didn't want to see all that. I actually wished it was Monday, Wednesday, or Friday, so I could have Occlumency lessons after dinner, instead of looking forward to the more students gushing and wooing and swooning. But no, it was Tuesday. I wondered what Snape felt about Valentines Day . . . Or how he would react if I gave him a gift . . .

I shook my head. That was just a stupid idea, really . . .

I shook my head again. The thoughts just wouldn't leave my head.

Realizing that sitting in front of the fire was not helping my thoughts any, nor was it curing my boredom, I stood up out of the chair and started over to the portrait. Before I reached it, though, it opened rather violently and in strode Pansy, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. She had a bouquet of roses clenched in her left fist.

Just as I noticed that she was coming my direction, she smacked me across the face. Hard. After the slight stinging sensation in my cheek, I swung back and punched her in the jaw, mostly out of instinct. I suppose I was overzealous in my punch, and she dropped like a sack of potatoes.

Barely glancing at her, curled up on the floor, I saw that she nursed her jaw and whined. When I looked around me, I saw that the entire common room went quiet, and stared at us with blank faces. The portrait opened violently again, and I turned towards the sound.

Draco came in, with an expression similar to Pansy's when she came in, and then he saw me with my fists clenched and Pansy on the ground beside me.

THWACK!

There was a flash of white light as I stumbled backwards. My lip stung and throbbed simultaneously, and only by sheer willpower did I manage to stay upright. When I regained my balance, after realizing Draco had punched my right in the mouth, I heard the common room gasp collectively.

I glared at Draco, who stood in front of me with his lips pursed. I could taste something coppery in my mouth. When I realized my lip was bleeding, he decked m again, this time I felt the brunt of it on my eye instead of my mouth, and I fell over.

I stood up, rubbing my backside, the vision in my left eye already blurring and sore. My hands clenched into fist on their own volition, but I managed to keep them at my side. He stared at me, as if daring me to punch him, but I couldn't. For some reason, I just couldn't punch Draco.

Before anything else could happen, I stormed for the portrait and pushed it open just as violently as they had. "Well, really, why don't you all just get together and tear me off my hinges?" Salazar Slytherin snapped, folding his arms indignantly when I glanced back at him.

My bottom lip felt four time larger than usual, and it stung horribly, and I could feel blood dripping down my chin and into my mouth, the coppery taste disgusting. I spat on the floor, uncaring that it was rude, and uncaring that I could feel warm blood trickling out of my left nostril. I could hardly even see out of my left eye, just a blurry little slit, and it throbbed with pain. Wet tears seemed to brim, but only in that eye, and I felt the moistness underneath.

My hand went to nose and mouth, cupping over them so as to stop the blood from going everywhere. I stormed furiously, breath heavy and quickly, hot against my palm, blood seeping onto my hands, so that that I could taste my flesh and the blood. I didn't know where I was going, but I figured the loo would probably be a good place. Too bad I was in the dungeons, and the closest girls' bathroom was quite a bit away. Really, this day couldn't get any worse.

And I smacked right into somebody. Three guesses on who.

Snape steadied me, holding my shoulders. He held me at arms' length. Normally I would've thought that this was either too typical or exactly what I wanted, but at the moment, it was neither. It made perfect sense I would bump into him, since I was in the dungeons, and the last thing I wanted was for him to see me with a black, swollen eye, and a bloody nose and cut lip. And I didn't even really understand what had just happened, what with Pansy attacking me for no reason. At least Draco had one--he thought I attacked his girlfriend.

He looked at me once, then sighed. "Come with me," he said simply.

I followed him into his office ,a room I had almost committed to my memory, all the time I spent in here, on my knees, head aching. I wasn't getting any better at Occlumency, to my chagrin as well as his, and it had been a month. He was starting to get very irritated with me, telling me that I had to clear my mind and control my emotions .I could do it easily before sleep, but throughout the day? Well, whenever I did manage it, I looked like I was stoned, and I was unable to concentrate on anything else/. Who could I do that with Snape pointing his wand at me, me knowing he was going to see more memories of mine? He'd even seen the memory of my first period, which was embarrassing for both of us, and he'd ended class right after, even though I'd only been there for three minutes.

He stood in front of me, pulling my hand away from my mouth. I had cupped my palm over it after we bumped into each other. "What happened?" he asked, while he pulled out his wand.

"I don't know. Pansy just walked in and smacked me, then I punched her, and then Draco punched me twice. I don't' know why Pansy was in such a bad mood--Draco gave her flowers. Red roses. He'd been so excited, too. God, he talked about nothing else."

He held my hand, which was stained red, and pointed his wand at it. I watched as he cleaned off the blood from my hand, liking how it felt to have him holding it. Even though I was angry as hell, it still felt nice.

"It seems as though you're having a horrid day," he commented when my hand was clean of blood.

I scoffed, causing some blood in the back of my throat to bubble. "Figures," I muttered.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked as he pointed his wand at my mouth, the tip of his wand barely touching it.

I waited for him to finish muttering a spell, relishing the feel of the cool wood on my bottom lip. I was also glad that he was doing a nonverbal spell, because it would've been distracting to hear him murmuring spells under his breath, or out loud.

"It figures I'm having a bad day on Valentines. It's such a stupid holiday."

He nodded briefly, before fixing my nose, his wand on the end of my nose. "I'm not quite fond of the holiday, either."

I shrugged. Since he was finished healing me, there really wasn't any reason for me to stay. I should have just walked out of his office and thanked him for healing me. I didn't know any healing charms--I was sure that I would learn them next year, since that was when NEWT level classes began--so it was really helpful. I had no reason to stay, or have a conversation with him.

"I was going to get you something, but I thought you'd think I was being stupid, and since I don't like the holiday anyway, I decided not to."

Well, I suppose a little conversation would hurt. We talked in Occlumency classes when he wasn't busy telling me to try harder and when I wasn't busying getting annoyed with him and getting snappy. It wasn't like it was out of the ordinary for me to actually talk with him.

"The thought is appreciated. I considered it as well."

Even though I knew he was talking about me, I still feigned a look of innocence. "You considered getting yourself a gift?" He knew I was being coy. I could tell by the look in his eyes.

"No, I considered getting _you_ one." Even though I'd known what he meant earlier, hearing him say it made get all warm inside.

I smiled and bit my now-healed bottom lip. I knew I was being flirtatious, but I didn't care. I ducked my head a little and tilted it to the side, although I still looked him in the eyes.

"And did you?" I asked, stepping closer to him than what was appropriate for a student and a teacher.

"No. I, too, despise the holiday, and decided against it." He stepped closer as well, and stared down at me through hooded eyes.

I shrugged slightly, then tilted my chin up, looking directly into his face. "Well, you thought about it at least. That's more than what I usually get."

The expression he had softened his angular features, and although he was still not what I'd call attractive, it was somewhat endearing. "I find that hard to believe."

I pressed my index finger against his chest, poking him playfully and gently. "Well, believe it," I breathed, acting far more confident than I felt. I felt weak--especially in the knee area--but not in a bad way.

I used my fingers to walk up his chest, my index and middle finger alternating steps. I thought my chest was going to explode, because of how fast my heart slammed against my ribs. When my fingers made it to his collarbone, he grabbed my hands gently.

He held it for a few seconds, apparently thinking hard about something. Then he brought my hand to his mouth, and kissed my knuckles.

He released my hand, but he did not realize my gaze. I lowered my hand, warmth shooting up my arm and then spreading through my whole body. For a moment, he looked frightened, like he was afraid he'd overstepped his bounds, but he had to have known I wouldn't care--that I wanted him too--since we spent so much time together, and he'd seen my memories; at least fifty percent of them were about him. But then again, about twenty-five percent were about Draco, and the rest was a mixture of my mum and random memories that, so maybe it wasn't that obvious . . . at least, I hoped it wasn't . . .

I stood up and kissed him on the cheek, although I did it slower than I had at the Yule Ball. "Happy Valentines Day, sir," I whispered. I pulled away and lingered over his mouth, wanting so very much to close the distance and kiss him for real, wanting nothing more than to share my first kiss with Snape, but after a few seconds' hesitation, I pulled completely away.

He leaned down so quickly, his black eyes glittering intensely, that I almost jumped, and my heart seemed to relocate somewhere near my throat. He stopped an inch from my mouth, clenched his teeth together, and moved to the side, pressing his lips against my own cheek. His mouth stayed there for a few seconds, inches from my skin, so I could feel his warm breath on the side of my face.

"Happy Valentines Day to you as well, Danielle." His voice was deep and quiet, and it vibrated through me. I tried to say something ,I'm not sure what, but it came out as a quiet hum. I was too light-headed to say anything coherently.

He pulled away from me and we looked into each other's eyes again. I wondered if he was going through my mind, or if it was even possible since I wasn't lying about anything, and if so, what he was seeing. Then again, the way I was looking at him, I'm sure he knew exactly what I was thinking, Occlumency and Legilimency be damned. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted my first kiss to be with him. That much was only obvious since my eyes kept flickering between his eyes and his mouth.

"You should probably return to the common room," he informed, turning away from me, sounding a bit irritated.

I felt let down and I sighed. Guess I wasn't getting that kiss today. Who was I kidding? I probably wasn't ever going to kiss Snape. Why would he be interesting in kissing me? Although, sometimes, I swear he gave signs . . .

"Yeah . . . tell Draco off or something . . ." I rubbed the back of my head, then went over to the door. Before I left, I turned around, and saw him watching me. "I'll, uh . . . I'll see you tomorrow."

He nodded. "Don't forget to practice clearing your mind."

My lips pursed. Did he have to act so brassed off? Why did he act like what happened wasn't a big deal? It was a big deal! Couldn't he see that? "Yeah, whatever," I grumbled. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Didn't he understand how much a kiss on the cheek meant to me?

I left his office and slammed the door shut. I don't know why it irritated me so much, having him change moods so quickly.

I went back to the portrait and said the password. He opened for me and I stepped in, decided not to force him to open quicker. He probably wouldn't appreciate that.

"That's not true!" Draco shouted at an obviously enraged Pansy, who was still clutching her red roses in her left fist.

"It is so! You love that bitch more than you love me!" she screamed back at him. I stood by the portrait still, which closed behind me, and I knew they were talking about me.

Pansy saw me, and she threw the bouquet at me. They hit me in the face, but since they were flowers, it didn't hurt so much as annoy.

"Pansy! That was unnecessary!" he shouted.

"Stick up for her then! If you love her so much, why don't you just go off and be with her! Go snog with her! Go be with . . . with Snape's little trollop!"

"Sod this," I mumbled, then turned around and left the common room once again, listening to the portrait scoff and mutter something under his breath.

I was halfway down the hall when I heard someone step out of the portrait again. "Hey, Dani!" Draco shouted from behind me.

I turned, confused at him calling me Dani, something he'd never done before. He was striding towards me, looking rather flustered.

This was not going to go well. I just knew he was going to hex me or punch me again. "Look, I'm not having a great day, so if you don't mind--"

"Actually, Dani," he interrupted, scowling at me, striding closer furiously, "I _do_ mind."

He kissed me. He held my face and brought my mouth up to his, and slammed his lips against mine. His lips were soft--softer than I imagined--even though the kiss was fierce. I stood there, paralyzed, while he pressed his lips to mine. My eyes were open, but his were closed, and he held my face, his hands soft as well. I couldn't breathe, and my heart had stopped functioning. What the hell was he doing?

He pulled away from me, lips pursed. "Well?" His tone was clipped. I didn't know what he was talking about.

"What the hell was that?" I demanded, stepping away from him.

If possible, he looked hurt. I actually hurt Draco Malfoy's feelings, although I have no idea why, or how that was even possible. He reached into his robes and scoffed, no longer looking hurt, but irritated. He tossed something at me. It bounced off of my chest and hit the floor. "Anyone asks, I just gave you that." His eyes were suddenly watery. Before I could really figure out why, though, he turned on his heel and sauntered off.

I shook my head, then looked down at what he threw at me. It was a necklace--a necklace with a silver chain, with the Slytherin emblem hanging from it. It looked rather expensive. I held it in my hands and looked at Draco walk back into the common room, confused.

I guess I did get my first kiss today. Although it wasn't from who I wanted it to be from, and I wished it didn't happen. Should I even count that as a kiss?

What about what happened with Snape? What was that? Did it mean anything?

And what the hell was up with Pansy?

Whatever. All I knew was that I was not going into the common room anytime soon, and that I _still_ hated Valentines Day.


	15. Chapter 18

Chapter 18: The Truth Comes Out

I had forgotten that Draco punched my eye. Until the next morning, when I could barely see out of it and it was sore. When I looked in the mirror, it was swollen and had a black bruise underneath it. Everybody's eyes kept following me, but no one said anything, because they all knew what had happened. Actually, I was pretty sure they knew more about what happened than I did.

Draco and Pansy appeared to have made up, since Pansy kissed Draco on the mouth before going up to the dormitory, glaring at me as she did so. She had a purplish bruise on her jaw. I glared right back. Really, she was the one who started it.

Draco practically leapt off the couch and stood in front of me. "Dani," he greeted. I folded my arms over my chest and noticed how the few people who were glancing at me quickly looked away. "Er, I was hoping we could talk . . ."

"Yeah, me too." I looked around at all of the people who kept chancing glances. "Can we do it somewhere else? Everybody's staring at us."

"That's actually a good thing, er, considering how people run their mouths about things they don't understand. Gossiping prats."

I suppose he made sense. I nodded and we both sat down on the couch. "Sorry about your eye," he started, grimacing a little bit. "I thought you attacked her. I didn't know she smacked you first. Anyone would've done the same."

I nodded a little bit. "Yeah, okay."

He looked stunned. "Really? That's it? You're not mad or anything?"

I shrugged. I was mad last night, but I wasn't anymore. "No. I mean, you've gotta stand up for your girl, right?" He nodded, impressed. Surprisingly, I didn't have any particular feelings about the situation anymore, other than confusion. I stared into his grey eyes. "But, er . . . what was her problem? She just walked in and smacked me."

"I don't know," he said.

I wondered for a moment if he was lying, because his eyes flickered for a moment. I stared into them curiously.

"_You got me Gryffindor roses?" she squealed, staring at the bouquet incredulously._

_Draco narrowed his eyes and titled his head, rubbing the back of his neck. He was obviously very disappointed. "What?"_

"_Red is a _Gryffindor_ colour!"_

_His mouth dropped slightly. "What? Are you _really_ that immature? It's just a colour--a colour that _also_ means passion and love!"_

"_Well, where's the Slytherin necklace?"_

"_Were you going through my things?" he demanded, standing up straighter._

"_Trying to hide it, were you?" He opened his mouth to protest, but she forestalled him. "Where is it?"_

"_I got that for Dani," he answered, looking at her as if it were obvious. Pansy squealed a little and looked as if he had mortally wounded her. "What? You've got a Slytherin lapel pin, and a Slytherin ring, and a Slytherin mural painted on your wall, and she's just barely starting to become a real Slytherin, you know. Besides ,roses are _far_ more romantic, right?"_

"_But that necklace was way more expensive than--than roses!"_

_Draco shrugged, obviously not getting it. "So? It's all chump change to me."_

_She squealed and stormed off._

I blinked, feeling slightly disoriented. "Huh," I muttered loudly. Had I just seen his memory, from third-person view? What the hell? It didn't make sense . . .

"What?" He looked around, confused.

I shook my head. Had I just performed Legilimency on him accidentally? "Oh, nothing . . . Just weird she would, you know, do that for no reason . . ."

"Well, you girls do get mood swings, you know. Maybe it was just that time of the month." He shrugged it off, as if talking about a girl's period was something anyone could just bring up. "Sorry 'bout the eye .I didn't know she attacked you first. Figured it out after, though, all by myself."

His eyes flickered again.

_Draco watched as I stormed out of the common room, then he helped Pansy stand. "What the hell was wrong with her? Goin' 'round, attacking you for no reason?" he muttered when the portrait shut._

"_Er, Pansy walked in here and smacked her first," Blaise informed haughtily._

I shook my head. What was going on? "That was weird."

"What was?"

I blinked a few times, still unnerved by it. How was I seeing memories without meaning to? "Nothing. She just smacked me for no reason. That's weird." Maybe I could do it purposely, if I really tried. I stared deeper into his eyes and tilted my head slightly. "I was actually, er, a bit curious about . . . Um, why you kissed me."

He blinked a few times. "Oh, yeah, you got a little angry about that, huh?"

"Well . . . It _was_ my first kiss, Draco, and to be honest, I thought it was really rude of you to do that, since you're with Pansy. Why did you do that, anyway?"

"Sorry about that. I guess I was . . . I do love Pansy. It's not like I have feelings for you or anything. "He chuckled airily, although I did notice he sounded a bit nervous too. He cleared his throat. "I was just trying to prove a point, is all."

Okay, let's see . . . I stare into his eyes . . . I had to be curious about what he was thinking of, whether or not his memory coincided with what he told me . . .

"_Stick up for her then! If you love her so much, why don't you just go off and be with her! Go snog with her! Go be with . . . with Snape's little trollop!" Pansy screeched._

_I saw myself storm out of the common room again, and Draco glance at me. "Pansy, that was uncalled for! Her and Snape are not--"_

"_There you are, sticking up for her again! I swear, you love her more than me!"_

"_I do not! We're just friends! But that doesn't mean I'll just let you say untrue stuff! She is not shagging Snape!"_

_Pansy started crying and she folded her arms. "You love her so much, then why don't you just go and be with her instead? It's a lost cause anyway--she's obviously got a thing for Snape!" she wailed, then turned on her heel and stormed off, crying into her hands._

"_She does not!" he shouted, a bit vehemently. Pansy wailed louder. "And maybe I will! She's more mature than you are anyway!" Then he turned away and stormed to the portrait, determination on his face. "I'll show her . . . Snape's trollop indeed . . ."_

I fell out of his memory, sort of. It was like being jerked away from a television really fast, and my head felt a little funny, a bit like it did after Snape fiddled around in my brain. It still didn't really make sense to me why he did it though--to prove I wasn't with Snape? Or to try and get with me to make Pansy angry? Or for some other reason?

"But you guys aren't fighting anymore?" I asked, still feeling a little strange, unsure of how I'd done that. Good thing today was Wednesday, because I could ask Snape about it.

"No, we made up. I still don't understand why she got all upset though . . ." He furrowed his eyebrows, obviously lost in thought. He was probably thinking about her getting upset over the roses, not that he knew I knew about that. Obviously. How was it that he didn't see the memories too? I always saw the memories Snape saw when he did it to me.

"Well, like you said, we do have mood swings . . ."

He nodded slowly, brows knitted together. "Yeah . . . yeah . . ." He shook his head slightly, the looked at the necklace. I'd put it on. I'd never gotten jewellery before. Hell, I'd never gotten a Valentine's gift before, so of course I put it on. "You like it, right?"

I held the emblem in my hand and smiled at it. "Yeah, it's nice. Don't know where you got it, but it's nice."

"Well, as long as you're happy. I've gotta go get Pansy something else--something more expensive than that. Honestly, girls are so weird--I understand wanting expensive things, because naturally they're better, but I thought girls liked romance more than money? Obviously I bought the most expensive roses, since money shows power and all, but I figured the necklace suited you more than her anyway. She's got this ring, right? But she never wears it! Why would I get her something if I didn't think she'd wear it? I want everyone to see it. Are all girls like this? I mean, I don't care, obviously, materials show station, but . . . Well, are they?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I think it's the thought that counts. Sometimes something handmade is the best. Snape drew a picture of me on my birthday, and that was--" I cut myself off when I realized how that sounded. Draco knitted his brows together. "Well, it was great."

"Oh . . ."

"Well, I gave him something for his birthday, so . . ." He nodded slowly.

I sat there on the couch awkwardly, thinking over how I'd seen some of his memories. I wanted to run to Snape and tell him everything I saw, but I knew that would seem strange, and so I would just have to wait.

Draco shifted in his seat slightly. "Well, er, I just wanted to apologize for the eye."

I wondered for a moment why Snape hadn't healed that too.

"Yeah, it's fine." I didn't care anymore about that--I cared about how I'd seen his memories. I couldn't wait for my Occlumency lesson, and for once, my eagerness had nothing to do with seeing Snape.

* * *

Draco was striding towards me, determination on his face . . . His lips were against mine while I stood paralyzed . . . I stared at the Slytherin necklace in my palm . . . Snape was kissing my knuckles . . . I was kissing Snape's cheek, at the Yule Ball . . . Mother was showing me her Dark Mark . . .

I gasped when I felt a sharp sting in my knees. I swayed and almost fell over, but then I managed to stand up, although I felt like I was going to fall over.

"Have you been practicing at all, Danielle?"

I nodded. "Yes, every night. I clear my head, but then I get tired and fall asleep."

"Your emotions . . . How are they now, compared to before you sleep? Perhaps you are too worried or anxious in this situation." He had his long finger pressed against his bottom lip. He tapped it a few times, apparently deep in thought.

I stood in front of him, my head pounding. My wand was shaking in my hand while I had it pointed at him. "I . . . I guess I'm more nervous than usual. I get a little, ah, anxious around you. A little. Well, if I'm a lone with you, and having you rummage through my head, able to see things that, well, maybe I don't want you to see . . ."

"Curse me," he ordered calmly.

I blinked a few times. "What?"

"Perhaps you are letting me in easily, in fear you will accidentally hurt me. You don't wish to harm me, do you?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Of course not."

He nodded once. "I need you to curse me."

I looked around the room uncomfortably. "Well . . . Er, with what? Like, a Tripping Jinx, or what?"

"Anything that won't cause much damage."

I stared at his face, taking in his high cheekbones and dark eyes. I didn't want to hurt him. A few times when I felt myself getting angry when he was rummaging around in my head, I actually bit back any curses that sprang into mind. I didn't think I was supposed to hex him.

"Expelliarmus," I shouted.

He blocked it with a nonverbal spell and it rebounded, hitting a shelf.

"You need to hurt me. You are afraid to, and that is hindering what needs to be done. Hurt me."

I scoffed a little and lowered my wand. "No. That's just . . . Stupid."

"Danielle, I need you to. If you cannot bring yourself to curse me now, than you will allow me into your mind without repercussion." He glared at me, eyeing my lowered wand, and then my face. "You must do this for me."

I shook my head. "No, this is just . . . stupid. It's silly. Why would I do that? I don't want to hurt you."

"Do it."

"No! I _will not_ curse you!" I wasn't about to attack the man I had a huge crush on . . . Hell, I might even be falling in love with him. I wasn't in love yet, but I could see myself falling for him.

"The Dark Lord is going to demand you do certain tasks--tasks which you will not want to do, and you must do it, or suffer dire consequences. If you cannot curse me, you may never learn to block your mind, and how can I be sure you are ready for this? If you cannot do this, then you are not ready to help Dumbledore--now do it!"

"Expelliarmus!" I shouted, but he blacked me again.

"I demand that you hurt me!"

"You can sod off--I'm not going to!"

"I will be forced to make you."

"Fine!" I shouted out a Stinging Hex, and he gasped a little in pain. I shot off another one. He gasped again. I stood there, my wand out. "Happy, Professor?"

He rubbed where my hex had hit him, then nodded once. "If you feel yourself breaking through my intrusion, do not hesitate to hex me. I have been through much more pain than you could ever cause me, understand?"

I felt uncomfortable. "Okay . . . But, it's just, I don't want to."

"And the Dark Lord will ask you to perform horrible tasks far worse than this. You are not going to be able to play the part convincingly if you refuse to do these tasks. You must set your determination on convincing a highly accomplished legilimens of your loyalty. Do you want to help?"

"Yes, that's why I'm doing this, isn't it?"

"Then you must promise you will do everything you must in order to play the part convincingly. Even if you must kill those we cannot protect. Even if that means someone you know. Even if it's me--although I doubt you will ever be asked to. You will be expected to participate in muggle torturing and killing."

Bile rose in my throat and I felt weak in my knees. For some reason, I had never even thought that I might have to do unpleasant things.

"Now, clear your mind. Do not let my presence bother you in the slightest. Do everything in your power to keep me out. On three. One . . . two . . . three . . ." I tried to push my feelings into the back of my mind and think of nothing. "Legilimens!"

Draco and I were in a pillow fight . . . Snape was standing before me, muttering under his breath . . . I was swinging on some sings at the park . . . Still, I could see Snape, pointing his wand at me . . . I saw my father, brilliant red hair and dull green eyes shining . . . But I could see Snape through my memories . . .

"Stop!" I shouted, then shouted something that knocked Snape off-balance. He smacked into his desk.

We stared at each other, and I had a hard time keeping my breath steady.

"Who was that man?" he asked, brows furrowed. He didn't seem bothered in the slightest I'd hit him with a curse.

I shrugged. "That was my dad. Why?"

He blinked once. "I was merely curious. That was an improvement." I nodded. "Your eye . . . I have salve for that; it has dittany in it. I think, perhaps, we should take a break. Please sit."

I sat down and put my wand in my robes.

"I do not like to do any sort of charm near eyes," he added as by way of explanation. He was opening a drawer and sifting through it. He pulled out a small vial with some sort of thick, pink potion in it.

"Er . . . why not?"

He walked over to me and kneeled in front of me, so that I had to look down at him. "In my sixth year, we were to perform glamour charms on one another, and my partner tried to change my eye colour. I was blind for a week."

I chuckled as he straightened his back. He put some of the potion on his fingers, and began smearing it gently underneath my eye, where my bruise was. "Yeah, I'd probably not like spells shot at my eye if that happened to me."

The salve was cold at first, but then it warmed considerably. He rubbed it on my skin gently. After a minute or so of him rubbing the salve on me, he tucked his index finger under my chin and tilted my head slightly and inspected my face.

"How do I look, Professor?"

He nodded once. "Perfect, as usual."

"Perfect," I repeated with a chuckle and shook my head. I scoffed a little and rolled my eyes.

He tilted his head to the side, keeping his index finger under my chin. His eyes met mine for a second, then he stood and went behind his desk, sitting in his chair. He sifted through some papers on his desk.

"Er . . . I was wondering, um, if we could talk about something," I finally said, having wanted to mention it the entire day.

He nodded in an understanding way. "I had a feeling this was coming."

I furrowed my brows. "You . . . did?"

He nodded again. "Of course I did. I am an accomplished legilimens. You still have quite a way to go before blocking _me_ out." He looked down at his desk, then back at me, and I thought I saw the tiniest smile. Only for a moment, though.

"Oh . . ." I remembered he'd seen Draco kissing me, and figured he must be talking about that. "I'm not talking about Draco kissing me, sir."

"I'm well aware of that."

"Okay, er, I think we're talking about different things. I accidentally saw into Draco mind."

He blinked a few times. "Yes . . . I was mistaken, it seems . . . You performed Legilimency?"

"Yeah. Well, it's a bit weird . . . Remember how I told you Pansy slapped me, then Draco hit me, twice?" He nodded. "Well, when I got back, they were arguing about me, and Pansy called me your little trollop. She threw roses at me, so I left. I was halfway down the hall when Draco came towards me and forced this kiss on me--well, it wasn't like _force_ really, it was a more like he surprised me. Then he tossed this at me." I indicated the necklace.

He raised his eyebrow at me. "And?"

"Well ,today, we talked about it, and when he was talking I saw . . . His memories, but it was in third person, so I could see him, though it was in his head. Pansy was mad because he got her red roses, and red is a Gryffindor colour--"

"Seriously?" I nodded and he shook his head. "How _immature_ is she?"

"I know! That's what Draco said! Then she was upset because my necklace cast more than the roses, and that's why she smacked me. Then I saw them arguing about me being your, uh, trollop, and she told him he should just go be with me, and he was all 'maybe I will' and that's when he went out and kissed me. But the thing is, I didn't mean to do it . . . Well, I did a bit at the end. So . . . If I'm not good at Occlumency, how did I do that?"

"Were you thinking of anything in particular before it happened?"

I shook my head. "No, not really. Well, I thought maybe he was lying, and I was a bit curious, and I was looking him in the eye . . . But I wasn't thinking anything, really."

He thought for a few moments, his index finger lining his bottom lip. "Your mind was open. In order to extract memories from others, you have to be focusing on a certain memory, or those that contradict, or prove, what the other is saying. Your mind also has to be open, void of any thoughts, so as to make room for the new thoughts. If you were to 'open' your mind when lying, the opposite would happen--that is, it would be easier for the other to sense the lie .However, the void of any thoughts is important in both. It is similar to a house--if one open the door, it allows others in--seeing lies, or allowing one to enter. However, if one closes the door, no one can enter. An accomplished legilimens and occlumens can do both, without sacrificing his ability to block others."

"Someone like you?"

"Yes . . . But I will admit I was . . . predisposed to this. It is something I am quite talented at. I retreated into myself many times. In case you haven't noticed, I am rather introverted. I hid my emotions as well."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Wait . . . So you're saying that, well . . . if I'd been trying to do this when I was littler--you know, when I was teased--then perhaps I'd catch onto it quicker?"

His long finger tapped his bottom lip. I loved it when he did that. I loved his hands . . . And his mouth was actually quite attractive, even though his lips were thin . . . "Perhaps. As you've grown, you've become better at expressing emotions rather than hiding them. If you could learn to retreat within yourself again . . . You are not horrible at it, as I've pointed out earlier. I believe you are too afraid of your ability, to be honest."

"Well, I just cursed you, so . . ."

"I'm speaking of something else now. You're ashamed of being a Slytherin."

"No . . . not really . . . I just don't' like having to, you know, hate muggles and muggleborns. I'm ashamed of _that. _I just don't think I belong here, and I _am_ ashamed of certain, ah, qualities I must have if I got stuck here. But . . . I don't think I'm like them. Not really. I don't hate muggles and muggleborns, and I don't think I'm better than everyone else, and I have morals. Not that they don't' have their own set, but, well, you know what I mean. They're all spoiled."

A faint smile slid across his features. "The Hat never once said one had to be spoiled to be in Slytherin. The qualities were cunning and ambition, and the belief that the ends justify the means, and the willingness to do what is necessary to get things done. You do what you want to do, and you don't let others' morals stop you, or influence you. You are rather stubborn. Hence, you not obeying me at times. You belong as much as I did--you also wanted to prove yourself better than your mother, you once told me."

I shifted a little in my seat. So many other Slytherins thought being a pureblood was the greatest thing ever that I'd actually forgotten what being a true Slytherin was all about. "So . . .why would I fear my ability then? Wouldn't I want to show you up or whatever?"

"You wanted to show the Dark Lord up, not me .Don't' think I don't' know this is about power of him and thousands of others' lives. I know you well. These little sessions have given me a clearer idea of who you are. And you thought you didn't belong in my house." he shook his head and gave me a patronizing look.

I glared at him. "And what? I guess that disgusts you?"

"Of course not. Rarely does one do something purely out of the goodness of one's heart. There are cases, of course, but . . . Well, we all can't be Gryffindors, can we? You didn't do it to be noble--you did it because you could help, and you wanted to do what you could _to_ help. To prove you could be a good person, probably to yourself--to prove yourself better than your mother. There is nobility in that--the fact you want to help--but you should not feel ashamed of why. I am not. I did not do this entirely out of the goodness in my heart, I can assure you. I am not so positive my heart contains that much goodness to begin with."

I frowned and brushed my hair out of my eyes. "What? Don't say that. You're a good person. You tried to get the Dark Lord to spare Lily, remember? Even though she . . . Well, you know, stopped being friends with you."

This was the first time I had ever brought up the subject of Lily, at least to my recollection. Judging by his somewhat shocked expression, I was right. I generally tried to steer away from her as much as possible when we talked.

"I did so because I desired her. I loved her Danielle, and I wanted her to live, whether or not she knew it was I who saved her. I cared nothing for her husband or child. It was purely selfish. I switched sides, because I knew I would not get my way--because I knew she would die. Her death . . . Was what convinced me to turn spy. Dumbledore suggests that I was being noble, that I was Sorted too early . . . But I find I disagree." He cleared his throat and sifted through some papers on his desk distractedly.

I reached forward and patted his hand with my own, to be comforting. It took some will-power though. He looked at me, and I held his hand gently. "Maybe those who are really brave and noble don't really think they are."

He stared at my hand for a moment, then slowly pulled his hand out form underneath mine, quickly looking away. I sat back in my chair and folded my arms, feeling stupid.

I looked away form him for a second, thinking that perhaps I shouldn't have put my hand on his. "Yeah, well, it's better than why I did it." I looked back at him, and he was regarding me as he normally did--with those intense eyes. "What do I even know about sacrifice? You . . . you know real pain. I'm just a stupid girl with a complex of some sort. Maybe I can't do this. Maybe I'll just bollix the whole thing up."

"If I feel that you cannot perform believably, then I will not let you go through with this. I am at stake as well as others if you cannot, so believe me when I say you will be able to, or I will not allow it, and you will be in hiding, wherever it is that Dumbledore has set aside for such an occasion."

I tilted my head. "You don't know of it?"

"No, but I believe the time will come when we will both know it well, so I don't ask about it."

I nodded, and there was an awkward silence. We both sat there, my touching my now-healed eye, and I remembered Snape talking about glamour spells and how he went blind for a week. I smiled a little.

"Perhaps we should continue our lesson?" he suggested a few moments later, breaking the awkward silence.

I nodded, and we both stood, pulling out our wands. I tried to close off my mind, trying to remember what it had been like those long years in primary school.

"One . . . two . . . three . . . Legilimens!"

I was throwing a muggle book under my pillow as I heard my mother opening the door . . . But Snape stood in front of me, muttering with his wand at my brain . . .

"Protego!" I shouted, wanting to force the spell away from me rather than hurt him.

And then I saw _his_ memories.

He was watching as Lily walked away from the Sorting Hat towards the Gryffindor table . . . He was sitting under the hat, eyes closed tight, whispering that he wanted to be with Lily in Gryffindor under his breath . . . He couldn't have been older than five, and he walked in on his parents having sex . . .

"Stop!" Snape shouted, and I realized I was laughing at the last memory of his dad lying on top of his mother. He looked a lot like his mother, but he had his dad's nose.

I cleared my throat and tried to stop laughing, but I couldn't. I sniggered into my hand for a moment. "Sorry, I just . . .well, I never had to go through that, so . . . Well, you know, since my dad died when I was young, I never walked in . . ." I laughed a little bit more.

He shook his head. "Yes, well, none of those memories were what I would consider fond."

"I didn't mean to."

"Obviously. It was unavoidable, and therefore expected, but not welcomed. Depending on how quickly you learn the material, you will have to . . . intrude into my mind."

I shifted a bit, for some reason more uncomfortable going into his mind than him going into mine. "I'm sorry. That feels . . . weird, doing that. Like I'm invading your privacy or something. Like I'm watching you naked."

"I have been intruding into your mind; you should feel no guilt if I ask you to. Although I would be quite upset if you tried it on me without my permission, even if I have done so to you."

I glared at him and was about to tell him off, then I realized that I would probably have done the same thing in his position many times by now, and so I shut my mouth.

"I suppose you would like to if you could," he said after a moment.

"What? See you naked?" For some reason, my mind was still on that, as I imagined what his chest would look like; his smooth belly; the slight indentation where his ribs ended; his navel; the sparse hairs leading to his penis . . . But for some reason, in my head, something strategically covered his penis, but only barely, so I could see the V his hip-bones would make . . . And he was wet, just having come out of the shower, his white towel damp, his hair stuck to the sides of his face, and his mouth was in a half-smile, his black eyes staring at me with fire in them . . .

"No, perform Occlumency against me so I could not see into your head, or use Legilimency so you could see what was in mine." I nodded, agreeing with him. Of course I would. He did to me. "Why? Would you like to see me naked?" he asked with an eyebrow raised, and a somewhat mocking smile on his face.

I opened my mouth to protest, then realised we were staring into each other's eyes. "I'm not answering that, because if I say no and that's the truth, you'll be offended, and if I say yes, and that's the truth, I'll embarrass myself."

"You've never minded offending me before. And so, I conclude, that you do. Lest you forget, Danielle, I am talented in that which I teach you, and I realise that you have feelings for me."

I cleared my throat and looked away form him, my cheeks burning a bright red. I put my weight onto my other foot. "Yeah, uh, sure, um, did you _really_ have to mention that? And . . . and I _so_ do not!" My inability to lock eyes with him was only proving him right. "Tch, you're my _professor_ and--and you wouldn't even be interested anyway and, well, you--you're mean to me and . . . Well, not always, you're kinda funny . . . Well, you don't even like me, so, yeah, and you're just reading my head wrong, and I don't have feelings for you."

I finally forced myself to look at him. He was obviously amused.

"Fine. So? I like you. Throw a bloody fit then. It can't have been the first time." Obviously there was something about him to like if I liked him, and so I couldn't have been the only one to have a crush on him, possibly start to fall for him.

"I'm not upset. Merely . . . puzzled."

"Puzzled? Come on, you can't be puzzled. Someone other than me has liked you before. You've been with girls before, yeah? It's not like you're a virgin like I am." I chuckled a little nervously.

His eyes flickered away from mine and he cleared his throat so quietly I barely heard him. He tugged on his sleeve a few times.

"Er . . ." I rubbed the back of my head and felt a little strange. "You _have_ had sex, right?" I realized how condescending I sounded. "I mean, it's all right if you haven't, that's respectable, obviously I think so, since I _am_ one--a virgin, I mean--it's just I figure there's a lot about you to like so . . . I thought you would have, since . . ."

He playing with his sleeve and gave me the strangest look. "You babble when you're nervous, don't you?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. He wasn't answering my question. "Yeah . . . and I'm sure you do something when you're nervous, too."

He looked down at his left hand, which was tugging on his right sleeve. "I do things with my hands when I feel uncomfortable." He stopped and put his hands at his sides, focusing on me directly. "I have never had sex, to answer your question."

For some reason, I smiled. "Oh. It's nice to know that some people think the same way I do when it comes to sex. You know, about waiting until love or whatever." He nodded once. "Um . . . if you don't mind me asking, how far have you gone?"

"Heavy kissing. You?"

I shrugged. "Draco kissed me. That's it. I don't really consider it as a first kiss, but . . . Well, when was your first kiss?"

"Sixteen, in my fifth year. Lily kissed me . . . it was, however, a one-time occasion." I smiled again. I felt happy for him. Even if they went separate ways, at least he got to kiss her once. I have yet to kiss someone I cared about. Well, other than Draco, but that didn't really count. "You really think there is much about me to like?"

"Well . . . Yeah, obviously . . . I care about you. I have feelings for you."

"A step up from Lupin, I must admit." I chuckled, although I wasn't sure if it was nervously or otherwise. "Still, your taste isn't great."

I scoffed. "Oh, whatever, I have great taste."

"Perhaps a bit odd, then," he amended. Well, I couldn't really contradict that.

"So, um, when did you . . . know that I liked you like that?"

"At the end of last year, when you said you would see me after the summer break, I had a suspicion. I did not know until the beginning of this year, when you stopped being so stubborn, and actually stopped arguing with me in class. Before, you would not respond to my obvious control in the classroom as others did."

I blinked a few times. "What? But _I_ didn't even know until the Yule Ball!"

"You _chose_ not to realize it until then." He looked me over, then put his hands behind his back. "That is why I believe you would be talented at Occlumency, if only you could learn to control your emotions around me. Perhaps us bringing it into the open and discussing it now will make it easier, for now it is no longer unsaid?"

I scuffed the ground with my toe and looked down. "I doubt that."

"Have you ever felt this way about someone before?"

I thought hard .there had been that small crush on Lupin, but really, that crush came from me thinking he had control in class and how he said my name and looked at me strangely . . . And it was nothing compared to how I felt about Snape. I looked up at him and stared directly into his eyes, opening my mind like I had with Draco, so that he would know I was being honest. "No, never like this."

"Which is why you had a hard time controlling the emotions, I assume. You must learn to control the emotions, however strong they are, and this will be an opportunity to do so. Even when emotions come up--and they will, as strong as they are now, though perhaps different emotions--you must learn to close them off from external intrusion. And you must learn to stop acting on impulse, on emotion, and think through your actions."

"Okay," I muttered, feeling a little awkward. He nodded once. "So, uh, you're not mad at me? Because I have feelings for you?"

He shook his head slowly. "Of course not." I opened my mouth to ask him if it even bugged him, but then he put his hand on my shoulder. "Today's lesson is over. I will escort you to the common room."

I nodded, and we walked quietly to the common room. We stopped at the portrait. "Danielle . . . May I ask a favour of you?"

I turned to his and nodded. "Yeah, sure. What?"

"Could my virginity remain a secret?"

"You're not ashamed, are you?" He gave me a stern look and I nodded. "Yes, of course. I won't tell anyone. I'll pretend I never found out."

"I _told_ you; you didn't _find out_. It should not be too hard. I don't imagine many people want to discuss my sex life."

I chuckled airily ."No, mostly they want to talk about theirs." He nodded a few times. "And, um, could you keep my feelings for you a secret?"

"Of course."

I nodded. "I'll see you Friday, then."

"Goodnight, Danielle."


	16. Chapter 19

Chapter 19: Little Ol' Helpful Me

Despite what I had originally thought, Snape discussing my feelings for him actually did make it easier being around him. I still had the feelings, but they were easier to control, and I was actually less embarrassed than I thought I would be. He was actually quite understanding.

It seemed he was also right in saying I would do much better with that out of the way. I don't' know how that worked or how he'd come to that conclusion, but he was right. I could block him out completely now. We'd even practiced by me outright lying to him and he would try to prove me wrong. He told me it was be a bit harder to block the Dark Lord out in a real situation, but he said as long as I continued practicing with him, everything would be fine. I was actually better at Legilimency than I was at Occlumency--or at least, it felt that way. Normally it was the opposite way around, but Snape said it wasn't unheard of--just like how math is usually harder than other classes, although for some people math was easy.

It felt weird, intruding on Snape's mind to find him lying. He told me that he could produce false memories about lies if he wanted, and under normal circumstances that was what he did whenever he lied, but he said in my case he didn't mind me seeing his memories, since he'd shared more of his life with than any in recent memory. That made me swell with pride and I'd been happy the rest of the day. After I got the hang of it, it seemed to all click into place, and got far easier.

"Remember, when most people lie, they think of the incident as they do so. You must learn to imagine the lie to be true, or not think of anything at all, if you are to be a proper occlumens." he told me a few times, and it was what made Occlumency easier for me.

We still had classes to improve my ability, even though I thought I was doing quite well. Sometimes I even forgot why I was taking the classes, and forgot that the Dark Lord was ever going to return. That was, until he would mention it, or he would rub his left forearm subconsciously. Except for the fact the reason I was taking these lessons was not a happy one, I enjoyed showing up in his office to gradually get better. Most of the time we found ourselves talking--having _actual_ conversations, like I did with Draco, like we were _friends--_rather than actually practicing, not that it mattered much that we didn't practice, since I was actually good at it. It was May, after all, and I had been practicing since January.

He even told me that the week prior and the week of OWL exams--which I had completely forgotten until he mentioned it--I had no need to show, unless I wanted to. I showed up twice, on Monday and Wednesday the week before, but then spent the rest of my times studying hard-core for the OWL exams. Draco remarked that he had thought something was wrong with me, considering he'd never seen me study before. I'd told him that I made a special occasion for it since it was the OWL exams.

I had finally finished the last exam and was sitting next to the lake, like many other fifth years. We were all a bit angry, because the exams had been rescheduled at an earlier time than usual because of the Triwizard tournament. Draco teased me about that, constantly reminding me that he didn't have to take them until next year.

Pansy and Draco were lying on the ground, her head on his chest, eyes closed and chest moving rhythmically. Draco had one hand underneath his head, and the other was playing with her hair idly. Crabbe and Goyle were nearby them, having a quiet conversation amongst themselves. I wondered sometimes what exactly they did talk about . . . I don't imagine it being very insightful, incidentally.

Sometimes I envied Draco, because he was happy of the Dark Lord's return, and not scared at all. Then again, his mother didn't kill his dad to prove her love to the Dark Lord, did she? I also envied that he had someone in his life to be romantic with. To think there was a time in my life I barely even considered him as an existence, even though I spent much of my summer with him. Now he was rather important in my life . . . or at least, reoccuring.

I remembered back when I had hated Snape . . . Just as I was trying to remember what I had been like back then, Draco let out a long, lazy sigh. "Today's a beautiful day, huh?"

"Yeah, it is." I looked out over the lake and at the blue sky before glancing back at them. I watched as Draco's finger slid through Pansy's hair, and I remembered when Snape had ran his fingers through my hair, when I'd cried in his chest during the Yule Ball. I wondered what it would feel like to have my fingers run through his hair . . . Then I furrowed my eyebrows. It probably wouldn't feel too good, since his hair was greasy. Still, I thought about it anyway, and it made my stomach flip. I didn't really understand how that made me feel all warm inside, considering he wasn't exactly attractive and he had bad hair, but it did.

"The last task is coming up. Who do you want to win?"

_Harry Potter,_ I answered silently in my head. Of course I wanted him to win. Even though Snape hated him because he looked like James, and I couldn't deny the fact the boy _did_ slip out of trouble and did seem a bit arrogant, I still respected him. Snape and I had discussed him, and we both knew he would be important in the war about to come, so I couldn't hate him.

"Cedric Diggory, of course," I answered and narrowed my eyes at Draco as if the question he'd asked was stupid. "What, you think I want one of the other school to have the champion? And I don't even consider Harry in the running, since he isn't even the _real_ champion."

"Potter will probably cheat his way through it somehow. He's such a git."

"Yeah. He's so full of himself. Acts like he owns the school just because he _thinks_ he killed the greatest wizard." The lie came so easily it scared me. I wondered if Draco had rubbed off on me a little bit. Well, obviously he did, since I'd only said what I'd heard him say before.

"You ever think him and that jumped-up mudblood Granger are shagging?"

I furrowed my brows, thinking about it. "No, not really. It never crossed my mind."

"I bet they are. They'd be perfect for each other--they both think they're better than everyone else."

I didn't really know how he would know this, considering he'd never really talked to either of them longer than to insult them, but I just nodded. I had to play the part. It did somewhat bother me, because generally I spoke my mind (unless it was the muggle thing, because I'd felt ashamed I wasn't like them and led them to believe I hated them too, which actually saved my life) but in desperate times . . .

"Yeah, I suppose. They do strut about, don't they?" I murmured.

"Yeah, and the Weasley brat, well, he's just a blood traitor isn't he? Just as bad as a mudblood."

"Oh . . . Well, I don't think about 'em much, so . . ."

He scoffed an rolled his eyes. "You're also not in their year."

"So . . . What brought up the subject?"

He shrugged, then held Pansy closer. "Well, I just wondered, 'cause I was thinking about the tasks, and the last one, because it just happened, and Krum saved Granger. I wondered if Potter was jealous. You know what the papers have been saying about him and Granger."

"Yeah, what you've been telling Rita Skeeter. You've been making the rumours, Draco."

"Yeah, and I've been wondering about them for awhile now. Potter and Granger."

"Well, what about Ronald Weasley?"

Draco was quiet for a moment while he stroked Pansy's hair, then shrugged. "Potter _did_ save him, didn't he? Maybe he's a pouf."

I chuckled. "No, I meant, who would Ron be with?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Maybe they tag-team her. Some girls are into that, you know."

I thought about it for a moment, my eyebrows furrowed. "Hmm . . . Harry could get her from the front, and Ron could get her from behind, you know, anally."

"Well, I was more thinking she would be on her knees, and she would be sucking one off while she gets it doggy from the other."

I shrugged. "Yeah, that makes sense. Or maybe she's cheating on them. She's smart enough to get away with it. But she probably isn't shagging either of them. I thought she was dating Krum--she went to the Yule Ball with him, remember?"

"Almost didn't recognize her. She actually looked . . ." He trailed off, but I knew that he thought she looked attractive. But he would never admit that a mudblood looked attractive. Mudblood. I hated that word, but it was part of my vocabulary now.

I looked out over the lake for a moment, then looked back at him with a grin. "Would you ever have a threesome?"

"No. I wouldn't want another man in the mix. I'd want sex to be all about me. I don't want her thinking or sharing that with anyone else. It's about us, and I don't want to share attention. Besides, having one girl is confusing enough--can you imagine having to please two? They're a bit different down there than we are."

"No, really? I thought we had the same parts," I said sarcastically, raising my eyebrow.

He gave me a patronizing glare, his grey eyes narrowed. "You girls are so hard to please. With us, it's pretty straight forward. Not that I've pleased other guys, but, well, I've pleased myself quite well, and it's not hard--well, it _is_ hard, isn't it? I meant difficult. Pansy's a pro at it, too. Quick learner, she is."

"Well, I don't think it's hard pleasing myself. I think it's pretty straight forward, once you know where everything is."

Draco furrowed his eyebrows, then glanced at me slyly. "Really? Could you demonstrate?"

"Uh, no. Why don't you ask her? I don't think I wanna do that in front of you."

"No, I meant . . . Explain. Draw it. Make a bloody diagram. She gets bored easily because I don't do it right, and I'm too embarrassed to ask her."

I raised my eyebrow. "But you're not embarrassed to ask me?"

"Dani, look, if either of these blushing prats I surround myself with even listened to what _we_ talked about during the summer, they'd probably die of shock. Then they'd roll over in their graves if they saw half of those pictures you drew me. I can talk to you about this. Besides, Pansy doesn't even like talking about it."

I thought it was weird that they could do things--I wasn't sure if it was sex, or something else--but not talk about it. "Well, I've never had sex, so I won't be much help in that, but as for pleasuring a girl, well, manually or whatever, I'm sure I can help. I've read a few sex magazines--about the best positions--and they probably know what they're talking about with sex if you want them. They're muggle, though, so the pictures are all stationary. I found them in an alley by my house."

"Hmm . . . I suppose muggles have to do it too, right? Maybe they'll have wizarding ones . . . I'm surprised you didn't throw them out."

I blinked a few times. Oh, right. "Well, I'd hate to have sex the first time and not know what I was doing. I'll let you borrow them. You can pretend it's a wizarding magazine, if you like. I have, like, ten of them." I hadn't found them in an alley--I'd bought them.

"Hmm . . . That'll probably be more helpful than my wank magazines. They don't explain much, just show. I think I need something educational. It'll help, I suppose. Even if it is muggle."

I nodded, then searched through my bag I drew a diagram for Draco, making sure it was very detailed, and on the back I wrote instructions just to make it clearer. I was lying on my stomach and writing on the grass, so my handwriting and drawing wasn't the best it could be, but it was legible. Crabbe and Goyle were watching what I wrote intensely, although I don't really know when they would need to know anything about what I was writing. At least, I hoped they wouldn't ever need to know.

I was a bit rude to them, wasn't I?

After I finished drawing it, I folded it up, put my quill and ink back in my bag, and handed him the paper. "Stick it in my pocket. I'm too comfortable to move." He smirked at me, with his hand under his head and the other around Pansy, stroking her hair.

"Lazy git," I grumbled jokingly, the put the folded up piece of parchment in his robes.

"Isn't that inappropriate, giving him that, talking about that with him, when he's got a girlfriend?" Crabbe asked, his voice rather soft while he stared at me curiously.

I raised my eyebrow at him. "No," I answered sharply.

"Come on, Crabbe, how else am I supposed to learn if Pansy won't tell me? I'll let you look at it, if you like."

Crabbe shut up after that.

I guess it was a bit inappropriate, but no more inappropriate than talking about sex with Snape, and I'd already done that a few months ago, so I didn't really give a crap.

* * *

"Dumbledore and the other professors don't care that you're taking me here, do they?" I asked.

Snape turned back and gave me a look. He looked around Diagon Alley. The crowds were thin and the sky was darkening. It was almost dusk. I'd mentioned during a lesson, after I had practiced breaking into his mind and seeing his memory of _me_ being sorted, him muttering that he hoped I wasn't in Slytherin, that I was running low on ingredients and I was planning on asking my mum to buy some more. He said he was running low on ingredients as well, and that he would take me on Saturday.

"No more than they would if they knew we'd discussed my sex life, or more precisely, lack thereof," he admitted, turning away from me while he swept into the apothecary. I followed him, looking at my list of ingredients. "What they don't know can't hurt them, I suppose."

"Oh."

He let out a long sigh. "I know Potter has been making Polyjuice Potion," he aired while he grabbed some ingredients off of the shelf and put them in the little basket he carried with him. I grabbed a basket, too, and put a few ingredients in that I knew I was running low on.

"Really?"

"Ah, let me rephrase that. I know he has been stealing ingredients from my personal stores while his know-it-all friend brews it for him. Remember how you mentioned my lacewing flies supply was low, that one detention? I've noticed that other ingredients for Polyjuice Potion have been missing, and while I had my suspicions . . . Just as I had in their second year . . . But Potter stole Gillyweed as well."

I furrowed my eyebrows as I grabbed some dittany. "Why would he need Polyjuice Potion?"

"Why does Potter do anything? I generally blame it on his lack of brain cells."

I chuckled as he handed me something to put in my basket from the top shelf, since I was too short to grab it myself. "How do you think he'll fare in the last task? That's coming up soon, huh?"

"Knowing him, he'll probably succeed and inflate his head to an even larger size. Whilst he is not overwhelmingly talented, he does seem to have a stroke of luck in these sorts of things, and he has a knack for Defence Against the Dark Arts. Otherwise he is a dunderhead. You'll be needing this next class." He handed me something and I put it in my basket. I hadn't put it on my list.

"Well, I guess I wouldn't know him as well as you do, so . . . but he seems like a nice guy."

He turned and gave me a reproachful glare, then I followed him to the other side of the store. "I suppose you find him humble?"

"I don't know, I've never really talked to him. He asked my name once."

"When?"

"Um, the day you told me Lupin was quitting, I think. Since you, y'know, blabbed about him being a werewolf."

He turned back and raised his eyebrow at me, I saw the side of his mouth twitch upward. "Purely accidental, of course." I could tell that it had not been accidental, and I didn't even have to perform Legilimency at all.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Well, at least you admit he's talented in something. He's a great flier. I tell Draco all the time that if he would stop showing off and just do his job, he might actually do better. Anyway, I just think it's cool that you would say he was good at Defence Against the Dark Arts when you don't like him, 'cause Draco refuses to say Harry's good at flying."

He turned away from me ."How could I not know he was talented? He produced a full Patronus last year. I know it was him."

My mouth almost dropped. I haven't even been able to do that! No one had ever taught me, and _Harry_ could do it in his third year? "Really? Who taught him?"

"Lupin, of course. Potter is everyone's favourite student."

"What was it?"

He grabbed a few more supplies, handing some to me. I don't know how he remembered everything on my list since he'd only glanced at it. It was nice though. He was even giving me some things I didn't even know I'd needed. The school year was almost over, wasn't it?

"A stag, like his father."

"A stag? Really? And James, too? Hmm, that's kinda weird, since yours is a doe." He stopped moving for a moment, then he continued walking. I don't know why he hesitated like that, though. "Thinking about it, I would've figured Lily's would've been a doe, since James was a . . . stag . . . oh."

There was a moment of silence. "Oftentimes, a Patronus will take the shape of the one you love, since she--or he--so often becomes your happy memory," he explained quietly.

I nodded as I put the last ingredient I need in my basket. He was silent after that, putting ingredients he needed in his cart.

We paid for our supplies The shop owner giving us a curious glance, but he didn't say anything.

As we walked through Diagon Alley, the skies black and the stars bright, I saw a man holding a snake. It was a tiny snake, probably six inches long, so I couldn't really see what it looked like. I broke away form Snape and walked over to the man, and stared at the little snake in his hand. Snape noticed and followed me, curious as to what I was doing.

"You like snakes, Miss?" he asked. The snake was bright orange and red, and curling around his fingers enthusiastically. It was so thin and small. It was like a baby snake.

I nodded and smiled as it began to curl around his wrist, though it kept its tail around his little finger. "Oh, yes, I always have. Since I was little."

"This 'ere's a corn snake, and I've named 'im Brick, but my daughter will probably change it. I'm gettin' it for her birthday, see. Got a book for 'er an' everythin', so she takes real good care of it." He stuck his hand out to me. "You can pet it, if you like."

I patted his head gently with my index finger, then stroked down his short spine. He stopped curling around the man's wrist and laid quite still, his tongue flicking at me. The colour of his scales was beautiful. I liked how the light shone off of the red particularly.

"Thank you," I said, then smiled at him.

"You're welcome, Miss. Maybe if you ask real nice, your dad will get you one," he said, then nodded his head at Snape and smiled at him before walking off, cooing to the little corn snake.

I looked at Snape with a small smile on my face, thinking it a bit funny he thought he was my dad. Snape looked at me with a soft expression, but I didn't know why. "Here, take my arm," he said after a minute.

I grabbed his arm, still smiling as I thought of the little snake. Even though Apparation was unpleasant--I didn't like the feeling of being squeezed--I was still in a good mood. Being in Hogsmeade at this late hour felt strange, since I was used to being there during the day.

"You really do like snakes," he said.

I nodded while we walked back to the school. "Yes. Always. I saw one at the zoo once, when I was with my dad. I've always wanted one since then, but . . ." I shrugged.

He stood in front of me and titled his head. "Do you permit me to . . ."

For a second, I didn't know what he was talking about, then I got it. "Oh, yeah, Sure, go ahead, look." I thought of that memory, or at least what little I remembered of it. Ti was also important to me because it had been my second birthday, merely a few hours before my mother killed my dad.

He stared into my eyes and I opened my mind, being quite sure the focus on that memory. He put his hands on my shoulders and looked deeper, his eyes intense. "Er . . . could you make it so I see it too?" I asked after a second. "Or does that only work with the small flashes?"

As if to answer my question, he nodded.

_I was so small, and I had a chubby little body and face, with straight hair that went to my jaw. I was holding onto my dad's hand, waddling, my diaper making my bottom look huge. My large, green eyes were vivid, although my dad's were a bit dull._

"_How Mummy not here?" I asked (more like babbled) as I looked up at my dad._

_My dad's hair was wavy, and went past his ears. He smiled, his mouth full. I hadn't had a clear picture of him for awhile. "Mummy doesn't like muggle things, and zoos count as one."_

"_Mummy like you huh Dad?" I sounded smug and I smiled widely._

_We were walking through the reptile house, and I saw a tall, broad-shouldered man holding a large snake that was white with yellowish patches. The snake was thick and strong looking._

"_Wow!" I pointed directly at the snake, and my loud voice caught the attention of the man holding it._

_The man turned towards us. "You like snakes, little lady?" he asked kindly._

"_Yeah!" I shouted, although I had no idea before that moment what a snake was._

_My dad hauled me up in his arms, and held me in front of the snake. The man holding it smiled. "You can pet it . . . If that's all right with your dad. He doesn't bite."_

_My dad nodded._

"_Okay, pet it gently, and from head to tail. You don't want to push his scales the wrong way." I watched as I put my small hand on its back and ran it down its spine, the muscles in its back following my hand, like a small wave. "This is an albino python. We just bought it from--"_

I was back in Hogsmeade, the harsh light form the zoo gone and so was the heat. It was dark and cool here, somewhat breezy, but in a comfortable way.

Snape pulled his hands away form my shoulder, and he had a very thgouthful look on his face. "Your father . . . he was a kind man."

I shrugged. "I guess. I didn't really know him, but I remember liking to hang out with him. I don't have any pictures of him because my mum tossed them, so that was the first time I really got a good look at him for a long time. I look a lot like him, don't I? I have my mother's eye shape, though, and vividness."

"And body," he offered, still looking away thoughtfully. He eyed my hair. "And her hair was straight, like yours."

"Yeah, but I still look a lot like my dad."

"Very much so . . . That was a very beautiful snake."

We both started walking towards Hogwarts as I nodded, remembering more clearly now how awesome it had felt to have my skin against his scales and to feel the powerful muscles under my fingertips for the first time. "Yeah . . . It was so cool. I love snakes. If I had a patronus, it would probably be a snake."

He nodded to himself. "Next class, I shall let you watch a cherished memory of mine. You've progressed quite well. You've also learned how to communicate with it, with those who are also talented."

"It a bit like having the shining in that way, huh?"

"A crude example," he pointed out as we entered school grounds. "I daresay you are ready for the Dark Lord, when that time comes."

Although the thought of the Dark Lord usually made chills go up my spine, tonight I felt okay with him being mentioned.

When eh dropped me off at the portrait, he spoke before I could tell him a goodbye. "How did you do on your OWL testing? That ended a few days ago, yes?"

"I don't know--I guess I did all right. Well, I hope I did all right."

"You know I do not let students in my NEWT level classes without an O, do you not?"

I nodded. "You mentioned it, yeah."

He nodded once. "Good night, Danielle." He turned to leave.

"Uh, sir?" I stopped. He turned back around to face me. "Who are you voting for in the Triwizard Tournament?"

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Cedric Diggory, obviously. He's the one that _didn't_ cheat."

"Oh. I'm voting for Harry." He let out a small sigh. "Good night, sir."

* * *

For several hours, I sat in the Slytherin common room, where Snape had told me to go. The whole school had been buzzing, but not in excitement, but in fear. Harry had emerged from the maze, holding the cup . . . and the dead body of Cedric Diggory.

Cedric was young. Seventeen. A seventh year. I knew, whether or not anyone else did, that somehow Harry had seen the dark Lord, and he'd killed Cedric. And I knew the war had officially started. A few of the Slytherins knew what was going on--Draco, for instance, who kept telling everyone he'd given 'Potter' a chance to choose the right side, and now he was going to regret not taking his hand. I'd heard a few students that weren't of my house crying, and they were genuinely sad for him. I had to pretend not to care. There were a few who did care in my house, yes, in the same way people cared when someone else's pet died. Some were confused. Some were happy, because that meant the Dark Lord was back.

I, however, was thinking about when everyone had thought Snape and I had been snogging and shagging, and Cedric had come up to me in the library and spoke to me, being comforting, even though I was a Slytherin and he was a Hufflepuff and eh barely knew me--if he knew me at all. I was thinking about how, last year when he'd caught the Snitch after Harry fell off his broom (not hat I saw it, since I'd been knocked out by dementors and saved by Snape, but I heard about it) and Cedric had offered to do a rematch, to play fair. I remembered hearing about it and being mildly impressed, but hadn't really cared. Now I wished I would've stayed to see it, or at least went up to congratulate him. I was thinking about how Cedric had always been a kind man, and I couldn't even show my respects to him without giving myself away.

It was so hard not to start crying. My eyes burned and my throat was dry, but I sat, emotionless. I knew I would cry alter that night when I wasn't surrounded by people, but I'd promised Snape I'd stay in the common room, and there were people in the dormitory anyway that would hear me, so . . .

Poor Harry. Since I'd seen several people die from the Killing Curse, and more still tortured through the Cruciatus, I knew what it was like to see someone suddenly die, right then, in front of me. Harry had seen Cedric die, somehow from the Dark Lord. That would be hard for anyone to handle, and I felt an even stronger urge to hide rather than fight. His death, although I'd never really spoke to him except for that once, seemed to make it even realer to me, and scarier, and I regretted choosing to be a spy, and wondered if I could change my mind and back out.

Yet, at the same time, I wanted to help Harry get through it, even if he didn't know I was helping him, and I wanted to prevent more young deaths. I wanted to pay the Dark Lord back--get revenge. Cedric had been one of the very few people who hadn't treated me like crap during the whole rumour fiasco. I couldn't see any reason for him to be killed.

Still, death was scary. Frightening. But I was good at Occlumency and Legilimency now, so I was going to go through with it.

After what seemed like hours, although I wasn't quite sure. Snape came into the common room and asked to speak with me about my lessons being cancelled due to an impostor professor. Draco pointed out where I was and continued telling his tale of when he first met Harry Potter while getting robes, and then the story of how he'd been refused by the scarhead on the train.

I followed him out of the common room and stood in front of the portrait. He looked around the hall. "Muffliato," he murmured as he waved his wand. I'd never heard that spell before, and wondered what it did. "I am leaving to meet with the Dark Lord now. He is the one who killed Cedric, and he is the one who put Barty Crouch junior here." When I gave him a questioning look, he sighed. "I will explain later. However, the war has now begun."

"Yeah . . . I know."

Eh held my shoulders and leaned over me, staring into my eyes. "You may still back out, if you wish to do so. What have you decided? Are you going to join me, or hide? Choose wisely. You are perfectly capable to continue, but I will understand if you do not."

I thought for a moment. I already knew what my answer was going to be, but I thought anyway, and wondered if I was going to regret it later.

"I want to help."

He nodded and I saw the briefest smile--a relieved smile, almost. He rubbed my arms for a second, then used his right hand to brush away my hair and hold the side of my face. He searched my face for a second.

"Should I come with you now?" I asked, relishing the feel of his hand on the side of my face.

He shook his head. "No, not now. I just wanted to tell you I was leaving. The time will come--I will make sure of it. You mother will, as well."

I nodded, and my heart thumped faster. I didn't know if it was from fear or excitement. Probably both.

"All right," I whispered. He nodded once, the brushed the side of my face with his palm once. "Good luck, sir."

He stared at me with his brows furrowed, as if contemplating something, then he nodded again. "Yes. Good luck, Danielle."

Then he turned on his heel and swept down the dungeons, and I returned to the common room, hoping that I would have some time alone to cry.

* * *

A/N--I feel a little bad about all that stuff I said about Hermione, since I really like her and all, but I just thought it was something Draco might say. It's actually a discussion I had with my brother once--only I didn't draw a diagram or anything. We were talking about Millicent Bulstrode and Crabbe and Goyle. Anyway, Hermione rules!


	17. Chapter 20

Chapter 20: Jealousy

I barely had enough time to hide my muggle novel--_Red Dragon--_under my pillow before my mother fully walked into my room. My mother was exceedingly beautiful. Not as beautiful as Narcissa, few people were, but she was up there. She had dirty blonde hair, but she always lightened it, and put brunette streaks through it using various potions. She always had her makeup on and the best robes. She did have my figure, but she was skinnier than I was. I had a small paunch and rounder hips than she did. I hated exercising, but she did constantly, so that was why she was in better shape than me. She had vivid hazel eyes that were almond shaped and a full mouth. I'd been lucky in the mouth department--both of my parents had full mouth, so I got it too.

Like Narcissa, my mother had an air of superiority and arrogance, but unlike Narcissa, she had no idea of how to be a mother. Draco talked to his parents and went places with them. My mother sheltered me and fed me until I was old enough to fend for myself in the food department. She was also an envious person and wanted to be better than everyone around her. She was a sycophant that followed the Malfoy around simply because she hated the fact she was a mudblood--God I hate that word--and wanted to be pureblood like them. She cared more about her station than taking care of me, and wanted me to grow up to be just like the Malfoy family. They simply tolerated her because she did whatever they asked and constantly complimented every move they made.

I compared her to Lily when she walked in, though briefly. Lily might not have been the sexy vixen my mother was, but she had a pure beauty that neither Narcissa or my mother could surpass. I felt smug that I looked more like Harry's mum than my own, even if Lily was prettier than I was. She deserved it.

"Do you have anything planned today?" she asked abruptly while she finished putting in her earrings.

I blinked a few times. "Er, do I ever?"

"I guess not. Not that popular, are you? Well, I've got an urgent appointment--Gwenog Jones, you know how she is about her hair--and I need you out of the house. Can't have you running around looking like _that_ can I? Besides, it's not very professional to have your children running about when trying to style hair, is it?"

"I guess not," I said. "So, what? Draco's then?"

"If they'll take you," she murmured as she looked me up and down.

I nodded, then got off of my bed and glanced in the mirror. It was the end of June, and I'd already fallen into my summer schedule, which meant I never got ready unless I absolutely had to. There were time I went a week without combing my hair, and lounged about it my night dress. At the moment, my hair was a mess, looking similar to a blaze of wild fire--not in a good way--and my face was without any makeup. I thought I looked all right without makeup, nothing special, but all right. Right now, though I looked horrible, since my hair was everywhere, and I had dark circles under my eyes.

"What time is it?" I asked when I looked out the window, which was a steely grey.

"Five-thirty in the morning. Her appointment is for seven. Have you been to sleep yet?" She looked into my probably bloodshot eyes. "Obviously not. Take a bag and I'll send you off to Draco's."

I nodded tiredly. I hadn't realized how tired I was until she told me what time it was. "Yeah, okay." I went over and grabbed my overnight bag, which was actually nearby. Not surprisingly, my mother sent me there a lot, and so I always knew where the bag was.

I threw in two robes--a black one and a green one--just in case she forgot to pick me up today and I had to stay another night. When my mother was busy checking herself in the mirror, I grabbed _Red Dragon_ from under my pillow and stuffed it in there.

I turned around and went to open my mouth to tell her I was ready, then I saw her rub her left arm a little. A surge of panic thrummed through me. I hadn't met the Dark Lord yet, but my mother hadn't stopped talking about him, and I knew the time was coming nearer. Every time she even touched or looked at her left arm, I panicked for a split second, then quickly quashed the feeling and prepared to close my mind.

"Is He calling, Mum?" I asked conversationally. It was the first time I'd said anything; then again, I hadn't been home for very long. It was only the end of June, after all.

"What?" She didn't seem to know what I was talking about. Then she noticed she was rubbing her arm. "Oh, no, I've just got some dry skin. Summer heat, you know." He looked at me curiously. "This is the first you've asked about Him since you got back. Why?"

I shrugged a little. "Well, I was just wondering when you were gonna take me to meet him is all. Professor Snape tells me I'll probably be in his Inner Circle because I've got connections. I was looking forward to it. I mean, if _you_ could join, why shouldn't I?"

"What do you mean if _I_ could join?"

"Well, you're a mudblood." She blinked a few times at me. She had never told me that. "What, you think Draco and Professor Snape didn't tell me?"

She huffed and stood up straighter, as she usually did whenever Snape was mentioned. Normally by her. I didn't talk about him in fear she'd figure out I liked him. "Yes, well, it's because of Snape the world knows anyway. So what do you think about it? I'm sorry you had to be born from a mudblood and a muggle."

"I'd rather not discuss what I think of you, Mother," I said. When she furrowed her eyebrows at me, I explained. "If I say I don't mind, then I'm a mudblood lover. But if I say I do mind, then I hate my mum. It's a trick question."

"I know I'm filth. But there were reasons why I married your father, and I've tried to make up for my unfortunate blood. At least you're a half-blood, like the Dark Lord."

"And so is Snape, and the Dark Lord trusts him," I pointed out.

She scoffed. "I hate him," she muttered.

_From out of nowhere, I saw my mother drawing a heart around Snape's name, smiling widely while she looked at him in the middle of their Potions class. She couldn't have been older than thirteen, and she looked completely enamoured with him. Lily was sitting beside Snape in the desk, both of them leaning close and speaking in quiet undertones, completely ignored by their Potions professor. Their professor was fat and looked like a walrus._

_My mother glared in Lily's direction, and her grip on her quill tightened._

I blinked a few times, then smirked at her. So . . . She hadn't hated Snape as much as I had thought, had she?

"Well, come on, I can't be having you around for much longer. I've got other things to do." I grabbed her arm and waited for her to Apparate me to their manor, smirking the whole time. I wonder if Snape knew.

* * *

Being outrageously rich had its benefits. Of course, I'd probably never know most of them, but I did know a few. That was a plus of always being shipped off to be watched by Narcissa and Lucius. One of the better things about being rich was the perfect mattresses and pillows and blankets, and the large beds.

Draco had a king sized bed. I don't know why he had one, since he was the only one that really needed to sleep in it, but I didn't complain since we could both sleep in it comfortably. Of course there were guest rooms and other beds for me to sleep in, but we'd known each other since we were little, and so Draco had never told me to leave his room. Besides, I hated the guest rooms. They were too far away from the main part of the house, and I liked talking with Draco until I fell asleep.

Of course, there was the problem with Draco being a body hugger.

When I was younger, I used to be a body hugger too, and we'd wake up all cuddling together and cute. Narcissa had taken pictures of us sleeping together, arms around each other. Embarrassing as hell to look at. When I started getting older, I sorta thought it creepy, and I would press myself against the wall as much as possible, but without fail, I would always wake up with Draco's arms around me and his face on my chest. Maybe some girls thought it romantic. Those girls probably didn't imagine the slight drool coming out of his mouth and moistening my collarbone, either, and the fact that his upper body's weight was resting entirely on my right arm, making it go numb several times through out the night.

Yet, I never did suggest a room to myself, so I guess I had no right to complain. I don't know why I kept sleeping in his bed. I think a part of me craved the intimacy. A part of me liked it.

Still, it was uncomfortable as hell. Well, actually, I always slept well, but it was uncomfortable when I woke up.

At the moment, I was just waking up, and Draco was, once again, wrapped around me. I normally just went right back to sleep, or at least pretended to, until he woke up and pulled away from me.

I was just about to fall back asleep when I heard a faint pop. I jerked a bit, then look over Draco's shoulder. He made an odd little snoring sound and fidgeted a little. There was a house elf shuffling about his room. I looked at his state-of-the-art purely magical alarm clock, and saw that it was ten in the morning.

"What are you doing?" I asked harshly.

It eeped, then disappeared with a faint pop. I remembered that house elves weren't supposed to be seen, then I rolled my eyes.

My arm was going numb again, so I flexed my fingers. This was ridiculous. I wasn't getting back to sleep now. I made to push him off of me, but when I saw his face, I stopped. Draco actually looked peaceful asleep. I'd never watched Draco sleep before. His normally pointed, harsh face was softened and weak looking. He was actually . . . cute . . .

I had never really thought of Draco as cute or handsome, but I guess he was. I shook my head, then laid back down, moving my arm a bit so it wasn't numb but he was still holding onto me.

Then the door opened suddenly, someone stepping into the room, presumably Narcissa. "Your mother wants you to wake--" The deep voice that issued from the person was most definitely _not_ Narcissa's.

I looked at Snape, who stood in the doorframe, staring at me, with his lips pursed slightly. His dark eyes wouldn't leave our sleeping bodies, and he did _not_ look pleased.

"Hello, Danielle," he greeted acidly.

"Professor." I smiled at him, then sat up, forcing Draco's head off of my chest and onto my lap. I acted far more comfortable than I felt, and the emotion that swelled up inside me--a mixture of guilt and embarrassment--was sudden and strong, and I habitually closed off my mind as he had taught me.

Draco moaned and slowly sat up, his normally slicked back hair up in all direction, face still void of his normal harshness. He rubbed his eyes. Draco slept in his underwear, something I'd asked him not to do when sleeping in the same bed as me, but he was stubborn as hell and decided that he could do what he wanted. I hadn't really minded so much before, but now I hated him for it, and wished I'd slept on the floor. Or in a different room. At least I was wearing my night dress.

Draco saw Snape looking at us sourly. He looked at me, then back at him. "Did you want something?" he asked innocently, but I noticed how he scooted away from me as if I might burn him if he sat beside me for too long.

"I was told to wake you. I didn't realize you had company." He gave me a dirtier look than I'd expected, or deserved, really, then he swept out of the room and slammed the door shut.

I stared at the door incredulously. What was his attitude about? I was the one who liked him, not the other way around. Right? Was it possible . . . No, he only ever saw Lily when he looked at me.

"Well, that was weird," Draco stated, the hopped out of bed as if nothing had happened at all. He went over to his wardrobe and grabbed a pair of charcoal grey robes and shimmied into them. I watched in silence as he combed through his hair, putting in product to keep his hair slicked back, and put on his expensive cologne, and all of that.

When he finished, he turned to look at me. "Well? Are you getting ready or what?"

I blinked my eyes a few times. "What? Oh, yeah." I got out of his bed and walked over to my bag. I grabbed my black robes, then looked at him. "You know, maybe we should stop sleeping, um, in the same bed. We're kinda old for that, don't you think? Besides, what would Pansy say if she knew?"

Draco looked at me as if I'd said something stupid. "Sleeping in the same bed isn't sexual. I slept in the same bed as my parents until I was, what, ten? They started kicking me out." I raised an eyebrow at him. He shifted uncomfortably. "I had nightmares a lot, okay?"

"Um . . . Well, it's just . . . You know, you holding me in your sleep, well, maybe that's a bit . . . Weird."

"Cuddling isn't sexual, Dani."

"Well, girls think differently on that subject than boys."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "Is this 'cause of Snape? Are you two . . ."

"I've told you before, Draco, that Snape and I aren't together. I'm just _saying_ that maybe we're a bit too old for this."

"Well, maybe, I think otherwise."

"Why is it such a big deal, Draco? You've got, like, a hundred bloody rooms!"

"We're supposed to be best friends! Well, other than Crabbe and Goyle, but sleeping in the same bed as them would be gay."

I raised my eyebrow at him. I guess being up next to Crabbe and Goyle on his friends list was a bit ego boosting. "Oh . . . look, never mind, just pretend I never said anything. I'm gonna get dressed." I turned around to leave the room.

As soon as my hand grabbed the knob, he said; "I _am_ your best friend, right?"

I turned around and looked at him. He was standing there, tilting his head. His angular face was back to normal. He looked as pale and pointed as usual. "Well, yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I just thought, since you're one of mine . . . Look, if you really want your own room, I can arrange it."

"No, it's fine." He looked satisfied, so I left his room and headed towards the bathroom.

* * *

When I stepped into the living room, the first person I saw was Snape. I tried to meet his eyes, but he pointedly looked away from me, and pursed his lips. What was that about?

"And you are?" someone said to my right. It was a cold voice I didn't recognize.

I turned to look at him, and I knew who it was as soon as I saw him. It was the Dark Lord. He didn't look much like a man, really. He was chalk white, and he didn't have a nose. He lipless mouth was curled in an unpleasant smile, and his red, snake-like eyes went straight to my eyes. Well, I hadn't expected to see him today.

I blocked my mind immediately, although I couldn't really quash the ice-cold fear that enveloped me. I could perform Occlumency well enough to hide it at least. "I'm Danielle."

He was sitting in a throne-like chair he must have transfigured, or one that Lucius and Narcissa had pulled out, since I'd never seen it before. He stood out of the chair and glided towards me, he black robes rippling malevolently. Well, he was scary as hell, but he did make an impression.

When he was right in front of me, he reached forward and held my red bangs in between his index and middle fingers. His fingers were long. He then held my shoulders and took a step back, red eyes grazing over my body. I stood there calmly, as if this happened to me every day. I didn't know how else to act. Well, other than run screaming madly in the opposite direction, but that wasn't an option. Well, not a smart one, anyway.

"You resemble Lily Potter," he stated as he let go of my shoulders. His eyes slid over to Snape. "Severus?" It was like he was awaiting an explanation.

Snape walked forward until he was at my side. He refused to look at me. "Yes, my lord?"

"You surely have realized her remarkable similarity?"

"I have, my lord. She is Emily Kensith's daughter."

His smile widened. "Ah, Emily! Yes, that horrid filth . . . Hmm, that explains it." What? That made no sense. He looked me over. "And how is your mother doing?"

"Fine."

"Not very fond of her, are you?" It was a genuine question.

"Well, no, not really."

"She raised you right, then." He turned away from me and went back over to the chair and sat in it, eyeing both me and Snape. He was still standing beside me. "Severus, I would like for you to take her under your wing. Lucius and Narcissa have told me the ample amount of time she's spent with them, and from what you've said about her, I think there may be a future between us. She can obviously help with our goals."

"Yes, my lord."

"Oh, Danielle, one last question, before you leave with Severus." I nodded once, then looked at Narcissa and Lucius, who were standing on either side of him. My insides froze whenever he said my name. Every word that fell out of his mouth was smooth, but icy, like a ship gliding over the frozen Atlantic. "How ambitious are you towards the world we're trying to build?"

"More than anything, my lord."

"And the filth that populates the earth . . . Those who don't _deserve_ life . . . What are your opinions of them?"

"I hate them. Muggles and mudbloods alike."

The smile on his face made chills run up my spine. "_All_ mudbloods, Danielle?" For some reason, the way he said it made me think that he was saying a private joke I didn't understand.

"Yes." I made sure to keep my mind fully closed as I stared into his eyes, hoping I was good enough to block him out.

There was a knowing look in his red eyes I didn't like. Hell, there wasn't a single thing about him I _did_ like. Just being near him made the temperature in the room plummet and the fear inside me was intense. "Very well. Now run along with Severus, he has much to say to you. Think of him as your . . . mentor. Now, Lucius, go and fetch young mister Malfoy . . . I need to speak with him."

Snape bowed respectfully, but not comically so. I followed suit, bowing just as low as Snape had, then I turned and walked out of the room with Snape at my side.

As soon as the door shut behind me, it was like the air around me changed, and my muscles went weak. I let out breath and my knees wobbled. The fear was still pulsing through me though, but I kept my mind blocked just in case he could feel it through walls.

"Go fetch your things," he ordered.

I hurriedly did so. My hands would not stop shaking, no matter how much I tried to tell them to stop. When I returned, knees shaky and my breathing loud, Snape looked at me for the first time since he'd seen me in Draco's bed. He quickly looked away.

"Take my arm."

I took it as he had ordered. He Apparated, and I felt the unpleasant sensation of being squeezed like normal.

He had brought me somewhere I didn't recognize. It looked like a house, but one that wasn't lived in much. Books lined the walls, though, and I thought that was pretty cool. I'd always wanted to be in a house that had a lot of books--it was like those movies that were on late-night muggle television that had some professor guy standing in front of a wall covered in books. Of course, this didn't have anywhere near the sophisticated air as the ones on TV.

"Where are we?"

"This is where I live during the summer months." I turned and looked at him as I let go of his arm. He was still not looking at me. "It's the last house on Spinner's End."

I nodded and pulled away from him. I walked over to the window, pulled aside the curtain, and saw down the road. There were cars. "This is a muggle neighbourhood?" I inquired as I shut the curtain.

"I am a half-blood. Few know I live here."

"I live in a muggle neighbourhood too. But my mum has witches over a lot--they just have to Apparate in the foyer instead of outside." I felt awkward, standing in his living room, holding my bag. I had never really thought I'd step foot in any of my professors' homes, let alone Snape's.

"Meeting Him the first time can be disorienting."

I blinked a few times, then I nodded. "Is it always like that being around him?" I asked, remembering the cold feeling he'd instilled in me. It was still in my gut, but most of it had subsided.

"After awhile, one gets used to Him."

"Oh, okay. That's good news." I tilted my head. "You know, my mum had a crush on you."

He was busying himself with something on a table. I noticed it looked like he was just trying to find something to do with his hands. Maybe me being in his house made him uncomfortable. "Of course she did. Lucius had told her that he had high hopes for me, and she wanted to impress him. She also had a crush on Black through most of her school years, simply because Bellatrix and Narcissa are his first cousins. She hated Lily, because she was my friend, and because she was muggleborn. She hates that which she cannot stand in herself."

"Why does she hate being mugglebo--uh, mudblood."

He flinched as if I'd slapped him. "You may say muggleborn in my presence. I prefer it."

I let out a relieved sigh. "Good. So, why does she hate being muggleborn?"

"Your mother was well-loved in primary school, and noticed that Lucius was a popular man in the train. She wished to impress him to keep her status high. He brainwashed her easily. She find herself less worthy, and therefore, hates those that are like her, for she hates being reminded that she is not better than anyone."

I stared at his back, since he was not facing me. What was with him? "Why are you mad at me?"

"What gives you the idea I'm angry with you?"

"You won't look at me."

He stopped fiddling with whatever he was fiddling with. After a few seconds, he turned around and looked at me, black eyes roaming over my body. After a few moments, he sighed. "Are you and Draco involved?"

"No," I answered honestly. "We're just friends. What? Didn't you ever have sleepovers?"

He nodded slowly. "Yes. We, also, shared a bed . . . I suppose it has just been awhile."

I folded my arms and cocked my head to the side. "If we _were_ together, would it bug you?"

He tugged on his sleeve before answering. "Apparently."

"Why?" I asked. Maybe he did like me. The thought cheered me up considerably.

"I don't know."

Well . . . that answer wasn't exactly what I'd been hoping for, but it wasn't that bad. It had potential, didn't it?

We looked at each other for a moment, and I wasn't blocking him out of my mind, but it seemed that he was blocking me out of his.

"You did well today."

I smiled at him. "Thank you."

He looked me over for a few seconds. He took a few steps towards me, his eyes fixed on mine. Oddly enough, I let all of my defences down. Since he knew of my feelings for him, I had nothing to hide from him, and I trusted him completely. I wondered if he was searching for any particular memories.

"You should probably go home now."

"I can't Apparate," I told him.

He stuck his arm out. I grabbed onto it, and braced myself for the unpleasant sensation.

No later than when he appeared in the foyer, did I hear my mother shriek. She stood with her hand to him mouth, obviously surprised at our sudden appearance. She looked at me, holding my bag, then at Snape. "You! You get out of my house, you greasy git!" she shouted, pointing at him.

"I was merely returning your daughter. She's just met with the Dark Lord--tell me, has he contacted you as of yet?" She remained quiet, and narrowed her hazel eyes at him before tossing her blonde-and-brunette streaked hair over her shoulder. "Perhaps he does not deem you worthy of his time."

"We've met! Just yesterday!" she lied.

"Odd. I was with him yesterday, and he didn't mention you."

She spluttered incoherent sounds as a reply.

I let go of his arm and smirked, unable to stop myself. Snape turned to me. "Good day, Danielle," he said, purposely showing me respect and not her. It was like rubbing salt into the wound. I almost laughed.

"See you later, sir."

Then he Disapparated with a pop.

"What? He talked to you, but not me? What business has he with you? You're just a girl!" she spat, folding her arms and glaring at me, as if I had lied to her or something. "Well? What did he say?"

I shrugged. "He just told me I looked like Lily Evans, really."

She stopped folding her arms. They fell to her side. "Oh. He did, did he? Did he . . . say anything else about Lily?" I furrowed my eyebrows and shook my head, confused. Why would he? "Well, you do resemble her a bit, I guess. I suppose Snape follows you around."

"Actually, no. Why would he?"

"No reason. I just . . . Well, he was in love with her. _He_ was a mudblood lover, and the Dark Lord accepted him. I'm far better than he is. At least I acknowledge that I'm filth--I doubt he ever realized what a disgrace his precious love was."

She insulted Lily. I had the urge to curse her into oblivion, to smack her, to yell at her. In fact, perhaps several months ago, I would have. But now I couldn't. Lil did not deserve that being said about her. "Yes, well, at least he realized his mistake, and led the Dark Lord to her, didn't he?"

"No, Sirius told them where she was."

"And who do you think gave the Dark Lord the idea to go after the Potters?" I said, making something up wildly. Snape did blame himself, didn't he? There must be a reason. He never told me why he thought it was his fault, why he felt so guilty, but I used it to my own advantage. I felt sick saying it, but it had to be done.

She blinked a few times, then scoffed. "Pathetic. All because she wouldn't go out with him."

"You're just jealous because you wanted him to like you. I'm not stupid, Mum."

He snarled at me. "Go to you room."

"It must really sting, knowing he liked her over you."

"He's a mudblood lover!"

"And you're a mudblood!" I shouted. For the first time in my life, I insulted a muggleborn, using the word I hated as the insult.

She seemed shocked. She blinked a few times, then shook her head. "You're right . . . If he chose me, I could only be disgusted at his choice . . ."

I stared at her in shock. She shouldn't just agree with me! She should be outraged! I called her a mudblood! What was she doing? Was she really so brainwashed she would just take the insult?

"God, you're pathetic," I grumbled.

She looked at me, confused, then I stormed up to my room, slamming the door behind me.


	18. Chapter 21

Chapter 21: Getting Along Just Famously, Aren't We?

I was sitting on the couch, reading _Silence of the Lambs_ when I heard several knocks on the door. I kept my finger in the book as I closed it, then walked over to my front door. We did get a lot of visitors, mostly witches and wizards, since my mother was a hair stylist. Since it was the middle of July, and people tended to want new hairstyles in the summer, I expected it to be a customer. However, I was shocked to see who was on my doorstep.

"Er . . . hello," I greeted.

Dumbledore smiled at me, his blue eyes twinkling. "Hello, Danielle. Do you mind if I come in?"

"Oh, er, yeah, come on in."

He walked into the small foyer, then went into the living room, eyeing it curiously. He was probably surprised that we lived in a muggle house, my mother being as she was. Even though it made sense that Dumbledore would want to keep in contact with me since I was a spy, it was still surprising to see him in my living room.

"Is your mother home?"

I shook my head. "No. I think she, er, club hopping. She probably going to bring home some good-looking wizard that I'll most likely never see again." I rolled my eyes, then wondered if perhaps that was more information than Dumbledore wanted.

"That's most convenient." He turned around to face me. "Though I suppose, if she were here, I could've asked her for a trim . . . Split ends are most troublesome indeed." He furrowed his eyebrow and smoothed his long beard. "And what is the going rate for a quick trim?"

I blinked a few times. I didn't know if he was joking or not. "Oh, um . . . for a trim? I think three sickles and two knuts, but I'm not sure . . ." What a weird old man.

"Oh, what is that you're reading?" he asked conversationally.

I showed him the cover. "_Silence of the Lambs._"

"Oh, that _is_ a fascinating book. Where are you?"

I shrugged. I had imagined Dumbledore . . . well, not like this. "Hannibal just told Clarice that Buffalo Bill lives in a two-story house." I rubbed the back of my head. "Um, so did you need something? I've only met the Dark Lord twice. I met him the other day, and he was asking all these weird questions . . . Like what I remembered of my father, and if I loved my mother and all that. He asked if I was with Draco, too, but I told him he was with Pansy . . . It was weird. I didn't really think he was all that interested in me."

"Did you tell him you loved your mother?"

"No, I said I hated all muggleborn filth--except I said the other word." He nodded understandingly. For some reason, it felt wrong to say it in front of Dumbledore. I knew I wouldn't ever say it in front of Snape, but I hadn't seen him since that night, although I'd thought about him constantly and had half a letter written to him that I knew I wasn't ever going to send to him.

"Do you love your mother? You can be honest."

"I guess. I mean, I love her 'cause she's my mum, but I don't really like her. I don't think she really likes me either. I'd be sad if she died, but it's not like I want to spend much time with her, if you get what I'm saying."

Dumbledore's eyebrows knitted together. A worried expression filled his face, causing his wrinkles to deepen and his mouth to turn into a frown. I wondered why he looked so troubled. "Yes . . . Did he ask if you had _any_ feelings towards your mother at all?"

The fact he seemed so fixated on that troubled me. "Well, I told him I respected her simply because she was my mother, but that was all. I said that she was filth and I was disgusted by that. I wasn't very kind. Why? Did he want me to like her, you think?"

He shook his head, and the worried expression melted off of his face. "No, of course he didn't. He hated his own father, who was a muggle. He killed him, and his grandparents as well. In fact, he probably would have been happier if you'd have had no respect for her at all. But obviously you've done very well, if you're still alive to be speaking to me."

I felt my stomach lurch and cold pricks on the back of my neck.

"Voldemort likes to know as much as he can about each of his followers, so that he can predict their every move, know how to hurt them, or coax them. Lord Voldemort does not have friends, only those who do his bidding. Each of his followers are pawns. No, him asking those questions was merely routine. He will probably try to extract some memories from you. Severus did go over some protocol with you, did he not?"

I nodded. "Yeah, he told me to let the Dark Lord see certain memories, and make up a few ones to cover up others that might give it away that I'm lying. I've already given him the memory of the first time I saw a snake, and Draco and I cuddling together. I've made a few about me insulting Hermione Granger and Dennis Creevey." He raised an eyebrow at me. "I'm very imaginative, so making up memories isn't too hard."

He still had an eyebrow raised at me, and he looked amused. "You and Draco cuddle?"

"Yeah, but we're just friends. Haven't you ever had sleepovers?"

"Not for awhile, but yes."

"Well, we sleep in the same bed--it's not a sexual thing."

I thought of Snape being jealous and slamming the door. He'd thought it was sexual, and appeared a bit jealous, so it was understandable that Dumbledore would think the same, just as the Dark Lord had. Then I realized that I wasn't closing my mind, and I wondered if Dumbledore had seen me thinking of Snape being jealous.

I cleared my throat. "Well, you've had sleepovers, so . . . Well, uh, I guess guys don't sleep in the same bed as other guys, so . . ."

He chuckled and smiled at me, his blue eyes twinkling, the way that they did sometimes. "Some men do, Danielle." I could still hear his amusement in in his voice.

"Well, you're more open-minded than Draco. He won't sleep in the same bed as--" He gave me a look. It was an interesting look, where he lowered his head and raised his eyebrows. For a second I didn't know why he was looking at me like that.

Then, from out of nowhere, I remembered McGonagall saying it was more likely that she would be with Snape than Dumbledore, and something clicked.

"Oh . . ." Hmm. Suddenly I felt very stupid, and I didn't know what to say. "Well, good for you. For being open."

"Oh, I learned long ago that I have nothing to be ashamed about, and those who think I should be, are most likely not those I want acceptance from anyway."

I nodded. He had a point there. "So . . Is there a reason you come here?"

"It is time I show you the Headquarters. You are being inducted into the Order of the Phoenix." I had no idea what he was talking about, and it must've shown, because he smiled kindly at me. "It is a resistance against Voldemort. I won't make any marks on you, or make you wear any silly lapel pins proving your allegiance with us. However, I must tell you that you cannot be seen by any students that may be there while you are. You are more useful as a spy if all students believe that you are against us. Severus has something you do not--he can be seen by both, since Voldemort has sent him to spy on me, so the more he is seen, the better for his cover. You, however, have not been set to spy on me, as far as I know, and I _would_ know, so we must keep your true allegiance known to the adults only."

I nodded. It was a bit sad, but Snape had told me this, as well as Harry could never know that I was helping him. "I understand."

"Very well then. Now, I am the Secret-Keeper, so you don't need to worry about the safety of headquarters--unless I die, which I am not planning on doing any time soon. Headquarters is at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place."

I nodded. I tried to say it, but nothing came out. I tried again, but it was like when I had the right answer in Transfiguration on the tip of my tongue and it wouldn't come out. So the Fidelius Charm worked well. "Well, I remembered it, sir. Um, a question . . . If someone gives me Veritaserum . . ."

"It can only be discovered if I say it, and the charm itself overrides Veritaserum, and the Imperius curse. Also, one talented in Occlumency can generally control herself better than others, if ever administered Veritaserum, which is why it is not used in trial." I nodded. Well, that was a relief. "Now, I think it is time we have you meet the rest of the Order."

* * *

When I walked into the kitchen in Grimmauld Place, I was surprised to find that no one was in there. Dumbledore had dropped me off, said he had explained my situation to Molly Weasley. He then left. I would've felt more comfortable if Dumbledore had stayed with me, but surely there was a reason for him not to be.

I walked around the kitchen, waiting for someone to come in. Perhaps Molly Weasley. Dumbledore had mentioned her, hadn't he?

The door creaked, signalling someone's entry. I turned to see who came in. It was a man with long, dark hair, and worn eyes. I could tell that, at one time, he had probably been extremely attractive. He was still attractive, in a rugged way, but he didn't seem all that happy. He was in the middle of drinking something out of a mug.

"Hello," I greeted.

He looked at me and the mug fell from his hands, crashed to the floor, and shattered. Whatever he'd been drinking was spilled all over the floor. He stared at me with his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open.

He seemed really familiar to me, almost like when I recognized an actor in a movie, but couldn't remember from where. Where had I seen this ruggedly handsome man before?

"What the hell?" he mumbled, still staring at me as if I had told him the meaning of life. He walked towards me slowly, peering.

Suddenly, I remembered a memory of my mother's--a memory of Sirius Black, who had been extremely attractive as a teenager, laughing with James while she looked on in admiration, and the pictures of him when he had escaped from Azkaban.

I frantically tried to think of something--anything. How should I react? Sirius Black was a servant of the Dark Lord, and I was supposed to be a spy. But we were in the headquarters of the Order. Had they a real spy, and infiltrated somehow? Well, I would not let him get back to the Death Eaters. I knew I had a cover, but no one knew I was here, and he _was_ in a house full of Order members, so nobody would know I had attacked him.

I shot him with the first curse that came to my head, and he stumbled backwards when it hit him. Suddenly, we both started shouting spells. I screamed out the first spells that came to my head and did my best to block those he shot back at me.

Things clattered all around us as hexes and spells ricocheted off of walls and pots and pans. Something hit my arm and sliced it, tearing my robes and splashing blood down my sleeve. I screamed out in pain, then retaliated, slashing him across the face.

The noises from the kitchen seemed to have roused someone else in the house, who was screaming out insults as loud as she possibly could, but I couldn't decipher them from all the spells we shot at each other.

"Expelliarmus!" he shouted, and my wand shot from my hand.

I dove behind a chair and it splintered as a green spell hit it. I yelled out in fear when I felt something fly right past my head, barely missing me. I saw my wand rolling on the floor a few feet away from me. I dove for it, but he shot it out of the way, singeing my fingers. I glanced at him, saw him raise his wand high into the air, and charged towards him.

I hit him in the gut with my head and knocked him to the ground. I grabbed his right wrist and pointed it away from me. Not for long, though, because he punched me in the face with his other hand. I fell off of him, but started kicking out wildly. My foot hit his hand and knocked his wand to the floor. He bent down to retrieve it and I threw myself on his back and wrapped my arms around his chest.

He threw me over his shoulder and I hit my back hard. I couldn't breathe for what seemed like forever, and that woman screaming seemed much louder than she had before. He bent down to grab his wand, but I kicked it out of the way as I gasped for breath. Then I kicked him as hard as I could in the shin, and he fell over.

We started wrestling on the ground--or, to be more precise, he was kicking my arse while I attempted to wrestle him.

I pushed him off of me and made a mad dash for my wand, limping, and tasting blood in my mouth. It hurt to breathe. I pointed my wand at him the same time he pointed his wand at me.

"We're on the same side!" he shouted at me.

I thought for a few seconds. If I continued to fight him, I could blow my cover. I wanted to pretend like I'd never heard him. So I let out a sigh. "How did the Dark Lord find this place?" I asked, figuring I might as well use it to my advantage, and tell Dumbledore as soon as I could.

Suddenly, he shot something at me, and it hit me in the gut. I shot something back at him, and we were back to blowing the kitchen to smithereens, but he was obviously doing a better job of it than I was. I found myself wishing I'd asked Snape to teach me how to fight as well.

The door opened, and Lupin came in. We both stopped cursing each other. He looked from me, to Sirius, then to me again.

"Lupin!" I cried. This was getting out of hand quickly. A member form both sides was in the room with me, and here I was, a spy. What was I supposed to do?

"Moony!" Sirius cried. "She's a Death Eater!"

"What?" he demanded, looking right at me.

"It's not Lily!" Sirius shouted.

"I know that," Lupin stated, glaring at Sirius, then looked back at me. "Danielle, are you a Death Eater?"

"No!" I shouted at the same time Sirius yelled; "Yes!"

I furrowed my eyebrows, then glared at Sirius, both of our wands pointed at each other. "You're the Death Eater!"

He narrowed his eyes. "I am no such thing!"

"You betrayed Lily and James!" I shouted right back.

"I did not!" I was about to contradict him, but he interrupted me. "I told you we were on the same side, and you assumed I was a Death Eater!"

"Hold on, both of you!" Lupin ordered, louder than I'd ever heard him. "Apparently something very strange is going on. All right, now, we both need to think through what happened. Danielle--"

"How do you know her?" Sirius asked, keeping his wand on me. I kept glancing at Lupin, who had slowly walked in between us both, so as to block each other.

Lupin let out a tired sigh. "She was a student of mine, when I taught Defence Against the Dark Arts." Sirius looked like he was about to say something else, but Lupin raised a hand. "Sirius, she bears an uncanny resemblance to Lily, yes, but she _is not_ her."

"I'm not stupid, Moony," he murmured, narrowing his eyes.

"Okay, I know this, but . . . She says she isn't a Death Eater."

"But when you weren't here she _said_ that she was."

"Because I thought you were!"

"Why would you say you were if he was?" Lupin asked me calmly.

I sighed. "Are you sure he's not a Death Eater?" I asked. If Sirius was a Death Eater, I could always claim I said I wasn't because Lupin was around. But then I was going to have to explain why I was in the Order's headquarters.

"I am quite positive. Peter Pettigrew betrayed the Potters, and fooled us all. Now, please explain what's going on."

Peter Pettigrew? But hadn't Sirius kill him? I looked at Sirius, who was still staring at me. I sighed. "I'm a spy for the Order of the Phoenix. I had a choice to make--I could either be spy, or go into hiding, and I chose spy. Snape taught me Occlumency. See, I had to chose because my mother is in the Inner Circle. I told Lupin I was nothing like her, that's how he knows me, but now I have to pretend to be."

"Who's your mum? I know a little something about being the black sheep." He said it in a very charming way. It was weird how he'd gone from yelling to charming.

"Emily Kensith--though I guess she'd have had a different name back then, huh?"

Sirius let out a bark of laughter and lowered his wand. "Kensith is your _mum?_ I can't believe someone would _marry_ that stalker!" He laughed a few more times.

Lupin tilted his head to the side. "Actually, her maiden name is Kensith. I suppose you took her name."

"Wait, so what was my dad's last name?" I asked them. The something horrible sank its way into my brain. It was probably one of the worst realizations I'd ever had. "Wait--what was my dad's first name?" I didn't know my own dad's first name. How horrible was that?

"You don't know your dad's name?" Sirius asked, incredulously.

Lupin gave Sirius a look, and Sirius wiped the incredulous expression right off his face. "Sirius, her mother killed her dad when she was two to prove her love to Voldemort."

I had only known two people to say His name--Lupin and Dumbledore. I wondered how they could speak it without getting chills.

"Voldemort?" Sirius repeated. All right, make that three. Sirius said it too. "I thought she was muggleborn, though."

"She hid it, I thought?" I asked, eyes narrowed. They both looked at me. "She blames Snape for everyone knowing, though, and for you not liking her."

Sirius shook his head and rolled his eyes. "We never liked your mother. She was a liar; a fake. She got a letter from her mother, and Snape found it crumpled on the floor. We didn't know she was ashamed of it, and when he showed it to Lily, she tried to talk to your mother and be kind. Your mother called Lily a . . . a, well, you know."

I nodded. Huh. For some reason, I imagined a more epic scene than that.

"It wasn't Snape's fault we didn't like her. Nobody really liked her, we all just . . . tolerated her. She was an ego boost, really. I don't know when she became a Death Eater, and I don't know when the others found out about her being muggleborn, but once, James, Remus, and I walked around a corner, and Snape and your mum were arguing. Snape was telling her off for calling Lily that word, I don't know why since he called her that too, and she shot a hex at him, and he shot her back. We stood up for her, 'cause, well, we liked Snape less, and he shot off a curse that cut her sleeve, and we saw her Dark Mark. That's why she blames Snape, but really, we didn't like her before that."

I lowered my wand. "Oh."

"Moony, what do ya say we clean up this kitchen? Molly will have a fit if she comes down and sees this." He gestured towards the room as a whole.

It was at that moment I realized the woman screaming out insults had shut up, but I didn't know when she'd stopped. Huh.

"You're right about that, Padfoot."

I don't know why they called each other by those weird names. Well, Moony I understood, since Lupin was a werewolf, but I didn't get Padfoot.

They stood back-to-back, and waved their wands in identical sweeping motions. The kitchen repaired itself before my eyes. My mouth literally dropped as I watched pots and pans go right back to where they had been, and rubbish that littered the floor went to where it had before our little duel.

When the kitchen was back to normal, Sirius looked at me, then touched his cheek, which was still bleeding slightly. He looked at his fingertips, then smiled at me. He had a very handsome smile. "That was a good fight you put up there."

"Oh, whatever, you kicked my arse."

"I did, didn't I?" he said with mock surprise, then started laughing genially. "You'd better work on those duelling skills, because they're complete shite."

I looked own at my robes, which were covered in smatterings of blood, rips, and smudges of dirt. I could feel a bruise on my thigh, and my lip was swollen, and blood was dripping down my chin. My cheek was sore. I had burns on my hands and singed holes in my robes. He had one or two tears in his robes, and maybe a limp in his leg.

Lupin sighed. "I'll go get the dittany. I'm surprised that we didn't get warned beforehand about you."

"Dumbledore said he told Molly Weasley."

Lupin nodded knowingly, and Sirius sighed. "We have a meeting at four. It was probably about you." Lupin shook his head. "I'm sorry about Sirius here. He's a bit testy sometimes. Sometimes, I like him better as a dog."

"Oh, shut up Remus, twelve years in Azkaban would make anyone a bit mad."

Lupin chuckled, then left the kitchen.

Sirius went over to the table and sat. I kept staring at him strangely. I would have thought someone would have told me Sirius was innocent.

"Er . . . What did he mean, he likes you better as a dog?"

"I'm an Animagus. Unregistered. I'm just talented like that." He winked at me, then leaned back on his chair so that he was only resting on the hind legs of the chair, and put his hands behind his head. "So, spy, huh? Well, I'm glad you came out differently than your mother. She had bad taste, that one--well, except for her little crush on me. But Snape? Ugh. You've seen the greasy git, I take it? Nasty piece of work, right?"

"He's not that bad," I spat. Sirius frowned at me. "Well, he taught me Occlumency so I could block out the Dark Lord." I didn't want the whole world knowing I had a crush on Snape.

He juts raised an eyebrow at me. "Right. Well then."

The door opened. The door was behind me, so I couldn't tell who it was, but judging by Sirius' face, it wasn't someone pleasant.

"I see you're here early as well. Though, I suppose, you would be--I don't imagine you have much to do while you cower in this house," Snape said icily from behind me.

Sirius looked extremely offended by what Snape had said. He set the chair on all fours and glared at him. "And what were you doing, Snape? Licking the mud of Voldemort's boots?"

"Don't speak his name."

I turned around to greet Snape and to prevent this argument from intensifying. "You here for the meeting too?" I asked conversationally.

His black eyes widened. "What happened to your--" His eyes moved past me and then to Sirius.

I turned back around, and saw that the cut on Sirius' face was as much evidence as Snape needed to piece together what had happened. I was about to explain, but then Sirius was on his feet, wand out. I was about to ask what his problem was, but then Snape brushed past me, his wand out as well.

"Attacking a mere girl, Black? Not too surprising--you do have a habit on picking on those who can't defend themselves."

"You should know as much as anyone, Snivellus. Couldn't put up much of a fight yourself."

"Four to one, Black, and I fared better than you did to Pettigrew, and I wouldn't even consider him worthy to duel a child."

They were in each other's faces now, wands in between each other's eyes. I stood there, mouth open, while they glared at each other, the hatred intense between them.

"Er . . . I attacked him first, sir," I explained.

Snape didn't take his eyes off of Sirius, but I saw his hand waver slightly. "Why?" he asked. He didn't sound like he believed me.

"I thought he was the one who betrayed Lily. I thought he was a Death Eater that broke into here somehow, and I was going to incapacitate him and turn him into Dumbledore. I figured if he got away, I could tell the Dark Lord that I thought he was an Order member. But, er . . .well, he obviously kicked my arse."

Snape lowered his wand and turned his attention towards me. "What have I told you about acting on impulse? You need to think through your actions more clearly! What if he'd killed you?"

I hadn't thought of that.

"I'm sorry."

"You need to think! Can you get a single thought through that thick skull of yours?" he snapped, suddenly angry with me.

"Now hold on one minute! Don't call me thick-headed!"

"Then don't give me a reason to, Danielle! After all we've been through, you almost threw it away!"

"I made a mistake, and everything turned out okay! God! Just calm down, okay?" I shouted, blocking my mind, although it was pointless since they all knew I was angry because I was yelling. I blocked my mind anyway.

"I can't have you up and die on me, can I? Did you expect me to be ecstatic you almost killed yourself?"

Sirius looked at me, then Snape. "Hang on, Snape, can't you stop being a berk for a second? She's just a girl; come on, give her a break."

He spun around and glared at Sirius. "You stay out of this, Black. She cannot afford weakness. Unlike _you_ she actually puts herself on the line!"

"She's just a _girl_ Snape! It's not like I was going to _kill_ her!"

"What's going on?" Lupin asked as he stepped into the kitchen, holding a vial of dittany. "And can you keep your voice down? I just managed to cover your mother up before I came in here last time; I don't want to do it again."

Snape stood away from Sirius and pointed at him. "He attacked Danielle, and she was acting foolishly."

"I doubt that was any reason to become angry, Severus. As you can see, I've handled it. Why don't we all just calm down and get along with each other?"

Both Snape and Sirius looked like they would rather jump to their deaths before ever getting along with each other. I didn't really want to get along with either of them at the moment, either.

Sirius sat at the table, and Snape sat on the other end of the table. They both folded their arms and stared at each other, their obvious hatred of the other as hot as a flame. I stood for a few moments longer, then went over and sat beside Snape. He didn't even glance at me; he just continued glaring at Sirius.

Sirius looked surprised that I would sit beside him, then he tossed his dark hair behind his shoulder haughtily and leaned back on his chair.

Lupin made us all drinks. The silence didn't seem to bother him.

When we were all drinking calmly, Lupin sat at the table, beside Sirius, and smiled broadly at us all. "So, Danielle, do you have the Dark Mark yet?"

I blinked. He sounded forcefully cheery. "Er, no, not yet." He nodded and I took a sip of my drink. "Mother's a bit upset that he's talked to me twice, though, and not to her at all."

"Oh. So how are you getting along with your mother?"

"Er . . . just fine, I guess . . ." Lupin nodded again, and I took another sip. This was far too awkward.

Sirius let out a sigh, then smiled at me. "You look a lot like your father." Sirius had a deeper voice than Lupin.

"You know him?"

"Yeah, I was at the wedding. We all were--James, Lily, Remus, Peter, and me. Not Severus, though. He didn't get an invite." He smirked at Snape as if he cared about my mum getting married.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "My mum invited you all?"

"No, your father did," he answered.

"Oh. So you could tell me his name, then?"

"Not to intrude on your highly intelligent conversation, but I thought we were here to discuss far more important matters?" Snape cut in, a bit harshly.

Lupin smiled. "I suppose so. I think Molly should be here any minute now. After that, I'll use the dittany to fix up your wounds, is that all right, Danielle?"

"Knowing your lamentable skills, perhaps it would be more prudent if I did it?"

Sirius went to say something to Snape that I gathered wouldn't have been too polite. Lupin spoke first, however. "If you think it wise, Severus, of course I will let you."

There was a stony silence after that, and none of us broke it until the meeting.

* * *

I was sitting in my room quietly, on the edge of my bed, while Snape applied the salve to my wounds, and uttered his spells to cure me. We hadn't spoken to each other since the kitchen, and I was still angry with him for yelling at me. So perhaps I shouldn't' have acted on impulse, but did he really had to call me stupid?

When he was finished, and I could fell that all my wounds were gone, I stood up off of my bed and he stood in front of me. It felt weird, having Snape in my room, but I'd told him to Apparate me here since I wasn't sure if my mother was home or not. Judging by the fact there weren't any noises, I didn't' think she was, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

"Sirius is far more experienced than you are; you should have realized that, Danielle. That sort of thinking will get you killed."

Well, he just brought that up from out of nowhere didn't he?

"I thought he was infiltrating the Order, Professor."

"In such a case, you should have went along with it, then produced a Patronus to tell one of the real Order there was an attack." When I gave him a questioning glance, he sighed. "You can use your Patronus to communicate with others."

"Well, that's just fine and dandy, but I can't produce a Patronus. I never learned how."

He let out an exasperated sigh, then turned around to leave. He made it two steps before he turned back around and pointed at me. "Than you should have went along with it, then stupefied him from behind! You are not talented enough to take on someone as experienced as him!"

"Well, then, why don't you teach me how to fight, then, instead of just going around calling me stupid!"

"Well, perhaps you should not act like such a dunderhead!"

"I'm just fifteen, sir! I'm not even going to be sixteen until next month! What did you expect?" I shouted.

"I expected you to use your intelligence instead of acting like a fool! You could have died and I cannot have you die, do you understand me?" he shouted.

I stood up straighter, getting right into his face. I hadn't yelled at him like this since . . .well, since the beginning of my fourth year, when I called him Snivellus. "Does it really matter? They've still got you! I'm not _that_ important to the war, so why don't you just back off?"

He grabbed my shoulders and held them tight, staring at me, his teeth clenched and face red. "I'm not talking about the war, Danielle! I'm speaking of you! I can't lose you!"

"You can't lose me, or you can't lose her?" I shouted, pulling away from him. It seemed that my fear of him only seeing Lily was about to burst forth verbally, and I was too angry to tell myself to stop, Normally logic would have started screaming that I'd crossed the line. But I was too angry to listen to logic.

He clenched his teeth together and towered over me. "I've already lost Lily! Do you think I could handle you dying as well?"

"You don't give a damn about me--I just look like her is all! Maybe I'm sick of it! Maybe I want you to look at _me_ for once! I _will never_ be her! And I'm starting to think that maybe I'm not the one who needs to realize it!"

"You think I don't care about you? Would I willingly take time to teach you Occlumency if I didn't care about you?"

"Then look me in the eye, Professor, and tell me you don't see her looking back at you! Tell me that you spent those lessons with me because you enjoyed my company, and not because being near me was like a reminder of being near her! Tell me you _never_ stopped yourself from saying her name instead of mine!" There were tears in my eyes, streaming down my cheeks. My hands were clenched into fists, and I realized that had I been standing this close to him under any other circumstances, it wouldn't have been a bad thing. I would have been overjoyed.

He pursed his lips and towered over me some more. We glared at each other. He couldn't answer my question.

I felt the tears fall some more and I felt like I was going to just fall over and die from how he was making me feel.

"Tell me that you were going to kiss _me_ when I fell off of the ladder, and not Lily."

He stepped away from me, but he did not turn around. For a long time he said nothing. I just watched as he stared at me with a contemplative expression on his face. He took in a breath. "You know as well as I do that I cannot say any of that."

I took in a sharp breath and felt a sob escape my lips. He looked like he was about to comfort me, but the last thing I wanted at the moment was for him to touch me. I stepped back, my mattress hitting the back of my knees. "I think it's best if you leave now," I said, my voice cracking.

He stood there for a second, then he Disapparated.

I yelled out in inarticulate rage, went over to my dresser, and knocked everything off of the top of it, screaming the whole time. I saw my reflection in my mirror, my bloodshot green eyes, my thick, red hair, my similar face, and a fiery rage filled me suddenly.

I punched the mirror several times, watching as the glass broke and sliced my hand. I didn't notice the pain, though--I just wanted to get rid of my reflection. I jsut watched as cracks and shards of the mirror ruined my reflection, as did my blood.

"I--HATE--YOU!" I screamed, punctuating each word with another punch, my red blood smearing the surface of the mirror.

It wasn't Snape I hated, or me.

It was Lily.


	19. Chapter 22

Chapter 22: The Thought of You

For ten whole seconds after I punched the mirror, I felt relieved. It was like someone had drained all of the anger and frustration out of me and then filled me with calmness. I stood there, my breath heavy, in a state of quiet bliss.

After the ten seconds, though, I realized the serious amount of pain my fist was in, and that it stung and throbbed and that the shockingly crimson blood was running all over my fist and dripping onto the carpet beneath me. That pain was very sudden and brought more tears to my eyes, and I wondered how it was possible that I hadn't felt the pain when I'd actually done the punching.

"Mum!" I shouted, staring at the blood on my hand in shock, wincing from the pain. "Mum! Are you here? Mum!" I searched around my room, and saw a wand on my bed, next to where I'd been sitting. I grabbed it with my left hand, which felt awkward. I pointed my wand at my right fist, then my mind went blank. I didn't know any healing charms. "Dammit!"

I stood very still, then rushed to the bathroom. I tried to keep my emotions in check, remembered to breathe, remembered to think clearly. Washing the wound came first, I knew that. But it was so hard to think clearly when my fist was throbbing and stinging. I turned the water on full blast, checked the temperature with my left wrist, underneath my palm, and remembered to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth while I fixed the water temperature until I thought it was pleasant enough, watching in slight fascination and horror as my blood ran along my pale skin--was I always this pale, or was it just the comparison of the blood?--and into the white porcelain of the sink, mixing with the water and going down the drain.

Was I woozy? I felt a bit light-headed, but surely it wasn't because of blood loss . . . Had I lost that much blood, or was it just panic?

I sat the wand beside the sink and grabbed a wash cloth, running it under the water. My hand was shaking violently, as was the rest of my body. I needed to clear my mind of all emotion in order to think clearly . . . . I had to block of emotion . . . Btu the pain was so intense, how could I block it off? After what Snape had said to me, how would anyone? I could clear my mind, stop someone from entering it, but I couldn't get rid of the emotions. How weak was that?

I used the wash cloth to wipe the blood from my hand, although it was still seeping out through my cuts. The cuts ran deep, I could see the shocking white of my bone underneath some of the cuts. In fact, I could see the muscles, and the skin all cut . . . The blood kept coming back after I wiped it away . . .

When I managed to get most of the blood off of my flesh and I stared at the gashes along my knuckles and on the back of my fingers, I took in a deep breath. "Dittany . . . Essence of dittany, and aloe . . . Numbing spells and . . . And a warming charm . . ."

I started naming off the ingredients to that dittany salve that Snape always used, knowing that I either had to make it myself or call a muggle hospital and ask for stitches . . . But in order to think clearly, I really needed a numbing spell.

I grabbed the wand I'd set next to the sink and pointed it at my hand. "What?" I murmured. "This isn't my wand . . ."

"Danielle!" I heard someone shout frantically.

Snape. What was he doing?

"Danielle!" I heard him shout again, from the direction of my room.

Snape knew healing spells.

I hurried out of the bathroom, staring at my hand. Blood was dripping again, and I could already see the swollen and bruised parts. My bedroom door was already half way open. I walked in and saw Snape. "Professor," I greeted tersely. All right, so maybe I was still a little angry with him, but I needed my hand fixed, so I figured I could at least tone the annoyance down. The stinging in my hand intensified.

He spun around and faced me, a wild look in his eyes. "Danielle! What happened? Were you attacked? Did someone--" His eyes flew to my hand, then to my face, and then to the mirror.

Realization swam across his features suddenly.

"Your wand," I said calmly, although both of my hands shook. Without really understanding why, I knew that was why he came back. I handed it to him.

He took it from me. He gestured for me to sit. I expected him to give me a lecture on controlling my temper, or ask why I'd smashed my mirror, or that the cuts were deep, or, well, anything really. At least I'd blocked my mind, so he wouldn't have been able to tell me to practice Occlumency. Still, I expected some type of lecture. He didn't even make a remark about how often he had to heal me.

I listened to the low murmurs of his voice while he said the necessary spells .I think they were something he made up, because I didn't recognize the words, btu they sounded almost song-like while he spoke them. I watched as the cuts began to heal, the muscle reconnecting and new skin growing over it. It was still red, like a scar, or a picked scab. He reached into his robes and pulled out the vial of the dittany salve I'd been trying to remember how to make, and put that over my hand, rubbing it in like lotion, massaging my hand calmly.

He worked his thumbs along my knuckles, pressed his elegant fingers into my palm, and I saw how he used the base of his palm to grind gently into the back of my hand. It was a rather nice sensation, and he did massage my hand a bit longer than he really needed to, but I didn't complain. I just relished the feeling of the pain in my hand dwindling, glad that I didn't have to make that damn salve while I was panicking. He hadn't been gone very long--only a few minutes--so I was still testy about our little argument. That was probably why we hadn't talked the whole time he healed me.

He finally looked into my eyes. Without waiting for him to ask permission, I opened my mind and showed him what had happened, showed him me screaming and punching the mirror. Seeing it again made it easier for me to count how many times my fist smashed into it. Seven times. I showed it to him without feeling guilty, or embarrassed, but a little satisfied, as if I was telling him off for making me do that. I blamed him for my hand, although it was entirely my fault. I blamed him anyway, because that was satisfying, and I knew he knew it, too.

He nodded when the memory ended. He knew that I resented Lily, for the first time in my life. Maybe later I'd feel guilty for hating her, but at the moment, I didn't care. At the moment, I hated her with my entire being. I hated looking like her. I'm sure he knew that too.

He continued staring into my eyes. Then--

_Snape Apparated into Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, and stormed directly into the kitchen, fuming. Dumbledore stood beside the table. Sirius and Lupin were also by the table._

_I knew Snape was angry because of our little argument. Judging by the way Dumbledore, Lupin, and Sirius exchanged looks, they knew he wasn't in a good mood, as well._

"_You arrogant, cowardly--" Snape sputtered, striding over to Sirius, the look on his face plainly stating he was going to give him a good thrashing._

"_Severus, what is the meaning of this?" Dumbledore asked_

"_He _attacked_ Danielle--"_

"_Ah, yes. That. I take full responsibility for that. It is, of course, my fault that I did not make sure all were aware of her paying a visit." Snape looked mutinous. He, very obviously, hadn't wanted his tirade interrupted. Dumbledore looked back at Lupin and Sirius. "Would you two excuse us for a moment? Severus and I need to discuss something."_

_They both nodded and left, talking quietly to one another on the way out._

_Snape stood there, teeth clenched, face turning a slight shade of brick red. He seemed to be waiting for something When the kitchen door closed, Dumbledore smiled kindly at him. "Sirius was under the impression Danielle was a Death Eater, so you can understand his . . . enthusiastic duel with her. As I understood it, she started the fight anyhow."_

"_Yes, Headmaster, as that may be true . . . However, she has no right to be attacking anyone, especially those obviously more talented than her! She must learn to think before she acts--impulse! She gives into it far too much! And does she even _care_ that I try to tell her this? No, she responds by _yelling_ at me! This is entirely Black's fault, had he not attacked her, I would not have had to deal with her attitude!"_

"_Perhaps you ought to train her in defensive and offensive spells, Severus?" he offered._

_Snape stared at him. "Headmaster . . . It seems odd to me that you would forget to mention something of this magnitude and leave her to find Black herself."_

"_Perhaps I thought you needed a little push in order to start teaching her how to fight properly. Obviously this little encounter of hers has made you realize the severity of the situation."_

_There was a moment's silence. "You _could_ have suggested it to me, Headmaster."_

"_And you would not have taken it as seriously." He stared at Snape with a very grave expression, his blue eyes unmoving from Snape's black ones. "This was not nearly as bad as it could have been, if she'd met up with someone else. I may not be as sharp as I used to be, but I thought this through before letting it happen. Everything I do is in the best interest of the girl, Severus, and I expect you to trust that."_

_It was obvious that Snape was not very pleased with Dumbledore at the moment. "I do, Headmaster. I was merely concerned for her safety."_

"_As was I. Obviously, you two have just had an argument--you did mention it--but I think it best you tell her that she is to learn defensive and offensive magic."_

"_I would rather not speak to her at the moment."_

"_Then send your Patronus. She does know it, after all."_

_Snape went for the wand in his robes. He felt around for a bit, then sighed. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "I left my wand in her room."_

When the memory ended, I sighed. For some reason, I think I would have liked it much better if Dumbledore had just forgotten to mention it rather than have planned not to. I'm not quite sure why, but it bothered me somewhat that Dumbledore had planned Sirius and me fighting, and me getting my arse kicked.

Snape stood up and put the vial back in his robes. He silently cleaned the blood off of my floor, went into the hallway to--I assume, anyway--clean the blood that I'd dripped elsewhere, and probably in the bathroom too. I think I might have left the sink on, but I wasn't sure.

When eh returned into my bedroom, his pointed his wand at my broken and bloody mirror. "Reparo," he said calmly, and it fixed itself, although there was still blood on it. "Tergeo," he said just as calmly, as the blood wiped clean.

We both stared at each other for a long time. I hated him for loving Lily, and for seeing her when he saw me. I hated myself for being so selfish and for being so resentful of something that was neither his, mine, or her fault. Most of all, I hated her for having his love, and because that was who he saw.

He went over to my bed and sat next to me. The added weight of him on my bed made the mattress sink. I stared at my floor. I didn't want to look at him at the moment. I didn't want him in my room, or on my bed for that matter.

"I think of you, Danielle," he stated. I continued staring at the floor. "There are times, I will admit, that I almost say her name. There are times that you remind me of her so vividly that it's nigh impossible to not imagine you as her. And yes, I was thinking of Lily the night you fell off the ladder. But I also think of you, more than you might think."

I scoffed and shook my head, still refusing to look at him. Wasn't it awkward enough to have my Potions professor sitting next to me on my bed? Did he have to bring this up to make it even more awkward?

"Oh, really? Like when?" I asked in disbelief.

"Often. More than is appropriate, I can assure you, and it _is_ you I am thinking of."

I nodded slowly, folding my arms.

"I thought of you on Valentines Day, for instance."

The anger that had been boiling inside me calmed, and I felt something warm and pleasant thrum through me. That had been an interesting day, and the moment between us, in his office, had been a bit intimate, even if he'd only kissed my knuckles and cheek. I remembered he'd leaned down really fast, so fast I'd jumped, and I had a suspicion he'd been going to kiss me, but changed his mind. It had never occurred to me that maybe he wanted to kiss me instead of him. It hadn't really occurred to me then, either, that maybe that was why he'd acted so strangely afterward. But him admitting to me that it had been me he'd been thinking of that night was satisfying.

"I thought of you the night of the Yule Ball, as well."

I couldn't help but smile when he said that. That was on of my favourite memories, even if I'd learned of the Dark Lord's return that night. I finally looked at him, knowing I still had red and puffy eyes form my tears. But I smiled at him anyway.

He had been looking at me the whole time. I don't know why his attitude was so much different than it had been before he'd Apparated, but I liked it. He was a bit like Draco in that way--his moods changed quickly. Or at least, they seemed like they did. I didn't really understand it, but I liked it.

"When I came back here and saw the blood and the mirror, not to mention the slight mess, I was concerned. I thought that perhaps, somehow, the Dark Lord knew you weren't loyal to him, and had you killed. I was concerned solely for you--not for Lily, and not that perhaps he'd found out about me. I was concerned for you."

I nodded, scooting a bit closer to him, still a little nervous and awkward, since he was sitting next to me on my bed, but I was happier now.

"I just wanted to tell you that while I do think of Lily at times, I also think of you. Perhaps that's not much to you, but it is to me."

I didn't know if he was admitting he had romantic feelings for me or if he just liked me as a friend, but either way, it made me happy.

I reached down and put my hand over his, which took an enormous amount of will-power, considering it wasn't that big of a deal. "Thank you," I whispered, smiling at him so that he would know I really meant it.

He moved his hand out from underneath mine and I pulled mine away quickly, a bit embarrassed. But then he put his hand on my knee. His palm felt hot through my robes and my breath caught for a second. It was so stupid, to be so ecstatic just because he put his hand on my knee, but I couldn't help it.

I slowly put my hand over his, and he must have known I was nervous, because my hand shook slightly.

"Thanks for healing my hand," I mumbled, liking the feel of his skin underneath my hand. I looked at him and saw that he was looking at me with intensity. But it wasn't the same intensity I got when I knew he was seeing Lily. It wasn't the emotions that plagued me for my first few years. It was just me he was looking at.

He nodded once at me.

"I was going to make my own salve, you know," I informed quietly.

"Thinking on it, you should make it still, and carry some with you wherever you go, considering you injure yourself quiet often."

I chuckled a little bit and nudged him with my shoulder, but not so much my hand moved. "Yeah, but you've always been there for me, so . . ."

"And I always will be." I knew he wasn't talking about dittany salve and healing charms now.

I nodded. "I know."

He pulled his hand out form under mine, and my knees was suddenly very cold without his hand there. He brushed my hair away from my face. "I cannot fathom how you must feel, Danielle . . . And I apologize for it. I never thought about how you felt about it, only about how _I_ felt about it. And I can understand your resentment." He brushed my hair form my face again.

I cleared my throat and fidgeted slightly. "Well . . . I don't _really_ hate her . . . I was just, you know, upset. You know how you say things you don't really mean, sometimes, because you're upset or something?"

He furrowed his eyebrows. "I know all to well."

Of course he did. He had told me he called Lily that word.

When he brushed my straight hair from my face a third time, I remembered Draco petting Pansy's hair, and how I'd wondered what it would feel like to have my hands in Snape's hair. He's run his fingers through mine before, when he'd comforted me after the Yule Ball. So I reached forward and pushed his black, lank hair away form his eyes a bit more. His hair wasn't the greatest, but it wasn't as greasy as it looked either. It actually felt smooth . . . Though I suppose I might have been a bit biased, since I did have feelings for him . . .

He merely seemed intrigued I'd pushed his hair away form his face, but when I did it a second time, I thought I saw him almost smile.

"Will you be fine?" he asked quietly, putting his hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

He nodded. "Then I should take my leave. I haven't insulted Black nearly enough for what happened, and I would like to out-wit him at least twice before bed." I chuckled and smiled widely at him, noticing his eyes focused on my smile for a few seconds. "Also, I think Dumbledore might find it odd I've spent more than enough time retrieving my wand."

I frowned at that, remembering how Dumbledore had planned the whole thing between me and Sirius, without any of us knowing. "Yeah . . . So, um, you are going to teach me how to fight and all that, right?"

He nodded a few times. "We will continue our extra lessons during the school year."

"All right." He stood up off of my bed, then looked at me. It was like eh was waiting for something. I smiled at him. "I'll see you later, sir."

It seemed like that was what he was waiting for. "Good bye, Danielle."

And with a pop, he Disapparated.


	20. Chapter 23

Chapter 23: A Birthday To Remember

"Happy birthday," my mother said as she walked into my room. She handed me a pair of green robes. Actually, they were more like dress-robes. Too dressy for everyday use, anyway.

I took them with a smile. "Thanks, Mum."

"I want you to wear that today. I have another gift for you." I frowned at her, confused. I'd never gotten two gifts from my mum before. She just smiled at me, her hazel eyes sparkling slightly. She sat beside me on the bed. "It's a surprise. But you'll be happy, I know you will."

I nodded. "Okay. I'll put it on." I noticed that she had her hair up in a ponytail, and that she didn't have any makeup on. She was wearing a white bathrobe. She only looked like this when she was about to get ready for something she considered important.

"You know I love you right?" mum said, a bit randomly.

I turned and looked at her, feeling really weird. "Well, yeah, you're my mum, so I figured as much."

She nodded a few times. "Okay. It's just, well, I used to think you were . . . Well, you know, a mudblood-lover, but now that I know you're not, I think it's okay for me to love you now. I understand that you can't really love me back, but I just thought you should know that I admire you .Even back when I thought you were a mudblood-lover, I admired you because you could always . . . Well, you always spoke your mind. You were comfortable in your own skin as it were, you know? Of course, that makes you a horror to raise . . . But I respect it. Still, though, I did love you, even if you can't love me back. And you're annoying as hell, but you're my daughter, so I kinda have to. Still, though, it's cool that you speak you're mind, and you're not ashamed to be yourself."

I furrowed my eyebrows, still holding the robes. "Is there a reason we're talking about this?"

"I just wanted you to know that, well, maybe I don't really like you that much, but I do love you., even if you can't love me. Also, I just wanted to apologize--now that I know you don't like muggles--that I married your father. But I did it on the Dark Lord's orders, and I know you can appreciate that."

"What? Why would he want you to do that?"

"Well, I certainly couldn't marry a pureblood, could I?"

"Oh . . . Well, did you ever love Dad?"

"Of course not. I love you because I have to--I didn't have to love him at all."

Well, she certainly ruined that didn't she? At least I had some real respect for her and she only loved me because she felt she had to. "Oh, well, that's good, I wouldn't want you loving a muggle," I said with a brief smile. I looked at my new green robe. "Yeah, well, I'm going to get ready for my surprise gift, then. I'll, uh, see you later."

I got dressed in the bathroom, wearing my new robe. So, even my birth had been a result of the Dark Lord? She'd married a muggle on his orders just to kill him later? I couldn't think of a reason why the Dark Lord would choose my father for my mother to marry just so he could tell her to kill him. It didn't make sense.

After I finished putting on my makeup and make sure my robe fit me well, I left the bathroom. I thought I looked attractive. I wondered what on earth my mother had planned for me that needed me to get dressed up, but at least it was something other than robes.

When I walked into the living room, I saw my mother smile at me. "You look lovely! Perfect! Well, I'm going to go take a shower and get ready myself. I can't go like _this_ can I? No, I've got to look my best. Don't worry, though, this day will be about you." She brushed off her bathrobe and ran her hand along her hair, which was tightly secured in a ponytail.

I walked up into my room and shut the door behind me. I was looking around the room when I heard someone knock on the door downstairs. I heard my mother running and open the door. I heard a small conversation, and I sighed. I hoped it wasn't a customer, because I really wanted my birthday to be about me. Maybe that was a bit selfish, but it is what it is.

I knelt beside my bookshelf (the bookshelf only had wizarding novels; the muggle ones were hidden) and started searching for a book when I heard a few knocks on my bedroom door. "Come in," I called.

The door opened and I turned to see who it was, expecting my mother, but was pleasantly surprised to see Snape, shutting the door behind him. I stood up so quickly that my head swam slightly in light-headedness. "Professor! Hey! I didn't expect to see you!"

He raised an eyebrow. "You thought I'd forget your birthday?"

"No, but you just sent something with an owl last year."

He nodded a few times, stepping closer to me. We both stood in the middle of the room now. "I thought it better to do so in person this year."

I smiled at him. "Well, that's sweet of you." The side of his mouth lifted in a small smile. "Did you want something to drink? Did Mother offer you anything?" It was doubtful she had, but I asked anyway.

"She wasn't very pleased to see me, so no would be the answer to that. She answered the door in a towel, and I got the impression she was not pleased that I'd seen her in it." I rolled my eyes. Leave it to my mum to answer the door in a towel. "I don't want a drink, to answer your question."

I nodded a few times. "Oh, okay."

His eyes moved down my body, then back up. "Are you going somewhere in particular?"

"Yes, but I don't know where. Mum just wanted me to get dressed nice. She's got a surprise for me. She's getting ready for it now, actually. You should come with us. I want you to be there. Well, unless you have something else you need to do."

Snape tilted his head to the side. "Today is about you, Danielle. I will do anything you want."

I couldn't help myself. He'd walked right into it.

I stepped even closer and bit my bottom lip, looking up at him. "Anything, Professor?" I asked coyly.

He just shook his head and let out a small scoff.

I laughed and smacked him playfully on the arm. "I was just kidding. But yes, I would like for you to come with me. Also, I would like to tell you that you're going to have to deal with me in NEWT classes, because I got my OWL results . . . Well, I got 'em awhile ago, but I forgot to tell you. So, yeah, I got an O in Potions, and you know that means you have me for two more years."

"Merlin help me. However will I manage having someone with intelligence in my class?" I chuckled and smiled at him, a warmth spreading through me when he looked down at me with a soft expression on his face. "Your other grades were pleasant, I presume?"

"I got an O in Defence Against the Dark Arts, surprisingly, considering I've shown you I'm not very good at it, and the rest were all E's . . . well, except Transfiguration and History of Magic, I got A's in those classes, and only because I studied for several hours--first time in my life, I can assure you. I'm lucky I even got those grades."

I sneered--I really was surprised I'd gotten anything above a P in those classes, because I hated those subjects. Studying did do something, didn't it?

"I was thinking about dropping them anyway, no matter what I got. I'm dropping Divination, too, because I'm bored of that class. I only got a good grade in the OWL exam because I could read the tea dregs and the cards. When it came to the ball reading, I just predicted that my examiner would come across some money in the near future, that she had a grudge she needed to resolve, and that although there was some stress in her life, that soon it would all pass. Basically I just said something that would make her happy, and that would've been true for anybody."

He looked impressed. "Congratulations. It seems you can manipulate quite well."

I practically beamed at his compliment, although I guess some might have been offended by what he said. Still, he was right. I didn't pass Divination for my talent in it.

"Would you like your gifts now?"

I tilted my head. "Gifts?" I repeated.

"I've brought two."

"Really? You didn't have to. I only got you the one."

He nodded. "I don't have to do anything, Danielle, I do so because I want to." He reached into his robes and pulled out a picture. I couldn't see what it was because of how he was holding it. "This is a picture of your father I've found."

I took it from him, surprised. I had only seen my father in memories recently. I flipped it around so I could see the picture, and I could tell he was nervous because he kept tugging on the end of his sleeves.

My first impression was that it was obviously a muggle pictures, since everybody in it was stationary. After that, I noticed that Snape was in there--my eye seemed to gravitate to him. Then I noticed Lily was standing beside Snape, with her arms around him, smiling widely. Snape had a very thin-lipped smile, as if he felt as though he didn't belong. There was a blonde girl, who looked a bit older than Lily, and her smile looked false. Two older people who might have been in their thirties or forties were standing behind her, also smiling. Right next to the older man stood my father, who was probably in his early twenties. He looked very much like the man standing behind Lily.

I stared at the stationary picture of my dad for a long time, feeling . . . Something. It was a bit like nostalgia. They were in a room I didn't recognize, and I didn't know who the two older people were or the blonde girl, but I still felt nostalgic. I had his smile. It made me feel a little odd, staring into my father's still picture. I did resemble him, but I resembled Lily more. Still, I had _his_ smile and _his_ chin, not hers. And he did look a lot like the older man . . .

"You knew my dad?" I asked quietly. I couldn't take my eyes off the picture, off the smiling group of people, with Lily's arms around Snape. Those two were in front of everyone else.

"Not very well. Not well enough to know he married your mother. I didn't realize who it was until I saw him in one of your memories, during Occlumency. He was kind to me, when he was around." He came over and stood next to me. I was still transfixed by the picture. I'd always wanted a picture of my dad, and now I had one. Snape was standing beside me, his shoulder brushing against mine. He pointed at himself, and then Lily. "This was Christmas of our fifth year. Since our birthdays were in January, her family celebrated them during the Christmas holiday."

"Her family?" I repeated, frowning slightly.

He nodded slowly. He pointed at the older man, the one who looked to be in his late thirties. He had thick, red hair, with a few grey streaks on the side. "Your father was her father's brother. His name was David Evans."

"So . . . Lily is my first cousin?" I asked timidly.

"Yes. David was fifteen years younger than her father. David was twenty-three in this picture."

I nodded slowly, smiling at the picture. It was really nice of her family to celebrate his birthday. The older people were obviously Lily's parents, and my father was her uncle. I recognized Lily and Snape, both fifteen. But I didn't recognize the blonde girl beside Lily with the fake smile. "Who is that?" I asked, pointing at the girl.

"Her sister, Petunia."

I nodded slowly. "Oh. Cool." I ran my finger along the picture of my dad, then put it where I put all of my important papers, next to the portrait Snape drew of me. I put that away, then turned around to see Snape, looking very pleased with himself.

"Thank you, sir," I whispered.

I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around him. For a moment he hesitated, then he put his arms around me. While we hugged, I could smell his cologne, and his body warmth went through me and filled me with contentment. My cheek was against his narrow chest and I could feel that he was putting the side of his face on top of my head.

"Do you want have your second gift now?" he said into my hair, after we hugged for awhile.

I pulled my head away from his chest, but kept my arms around his back. "Yeah."

He pulled away from me and went over to my bedroom door. When his hand touched the doorknob, I heard my mother turn off the shower. He turned around and looked at me. "I left it in the hall. Close your eyes, Danielle."

I closed my eyes obediently and heard him open the door. I was tempted to peek and see what he was bringing into my room, but I kept my eyes closed. I heard him messing around with something when he came back into my room, but I kept my eyes closed. He then shut the door.

After a few seconds, I heard him walk behind me. He pressed his chest against my back and wrapped his arms around my abdomen and put his mouth right next to my ear. I could feel his warm breath tickling my ear lobe and I felt my stomach flip pleasantly. "Open your eyes," he whispered, his voice low.

I opened them, and I saw a cage with a rock and a little hut inside of it. There was a small book on top of the cage. I saw something slithering inside and my mouth opened slightly in shock. I was more aware of his chest against my back and his arms around my abdomen and I could feel joy starting to thrum through me. "Is that a snake?" I breathed, grinning from ear to ear.

"Yes."

Ecstasy exploded in the pit of my stomach and I practically bolted out of his arms and to the cage. I peered inside of it, seeing a snake probably only a foot and a half long slithering along the special dirt on the bottom of the cage. "Oh my God!" I screeched.

"The book is so you can learn how to properly care for the snake. It's a royal python; supposedly they are the best for beginners. They can live up to forty years."

I spun around, my hair whipping my face, my grin so large my cheeks could be sore in a few minutes. "Thank you!" I exclaimed, ran over to him, and practically leapt into his chest.

He stumbled, but then wrapped his arms around me to prevent me from falling. I wrapped my arms around him so tightly that I swore he couldn't breathe, but I was so overjoyed that I finally had a pet snake I couldn't help it. "Thank you, thank you so much!" I pulled away, staring into his black eyes, and into his pleased face.

And I kissed him.

Almost as soon as my lips pressed against his, I pulled away, still grinning, giggling a bit from excitement. He set me on the ground, since I had jumped into his chest, looking at me in shock.

For a second I didn't really understand what I'd just done, then a few seconds after he put me on the ground and looked at me as if I'd grown another head, I realized that I had kissed him. My mouth tingled and my heart beat against my chest rapidly.

"Oh . . . I'm sorry, I was just . . . I should've asked, or gave you a warning, or something. I'm sorry."

He blinked a few times, as if trying to clear his head. Then he smiled. He didn't smirk, he didn't half-smile, or lift up one side of his mouth. He smiled. It softened up his features and showed his less-than-attractive slightly crooked teeth. Seeing him smile like that almost made me melt. He was actually quite attractive when he smiled.

"Don't be sorry," he said, reaching forward and holding the side of my face. My mouth tingled again and I felt my breath hitch in my throat. I leaned my head against his palm and he brushed his thumb against my cheek. He searched my face, then began to lean forward.

I knew he was going to kiss me.

But then I heard my mother start to turn the doorknob. Stupid bitch.

Snape stepped away from me and moved over to my dresser while I turned around to face the door. She walked in, makeup on perfectly, straight blonde-and-brunette streaked hair past her shoulder, wearing robes of green, although a lighter shade than mine. "All right, honey, it's time to . . ." Her hazel eyes moved from me to Snape, and her lip curled into a snarl.

"What the hell are you doing in my daughter's room?"

"I've brought her a gift. It _is_ her birthday." He indicated the cage in irritation. My mother folded her arms over her chest and glared at him, and did not look at the cage. "What did you get her, _Em-i-ly?" _He said her name like it burned his tongue. "A pair of robes?" It was obvious by his tone he did not think a pair of robes was an appropriate gift.

"A lot better than what you ever got me, _Sev-er-us," _she snapped, spitting his name out like acid. Waht did that mean? I never really imagined Snape getting her anything.

He scoffed. "I didn't give you anything you didn't want, or do you not remember?" He looked absolutely mutinous.

She clenched her teeth together. "I hate you," she snapped. Snape smirked in response. "Now, if you don't mind, we have somewhere to be. I'm sure Danielle appreciates your little, uh . . ." She turned and looked at the cage for the first time. She jumped back and smacked against the wall. "A snake! You got her a bloody snake! Why would you do that?"

"As a gift."

She stared at the cage for a few seconds, blinking in surprise. After a few seconds, she looked from the cage back to Snape. "Yes . . . well . . . uh . . . We've got to go, she's got somewhere to go, so . . ."

"Danielle has invited me to go with, and being as it _is_ her birthday, perhaps you should let me accompany her?"

She stood away from the wall, narrowing her eyes at him. "Whatever. This is her day, not mine, but you can be damn sure that if this were any other day, you wouldn't be invited, you bleeding lecher."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "He's not a pervert, Mum. I asked him to come."

However, despite the fact I didn't think he was a pervert, he shifted his weight onto his other foot and tugged on his sleeve. He seemed actually bothered by what my Mum said.

"Well, grab hold of me, then. Both of you," Mum ordered.

I grabbed a hold of her arm. Snape did as well, though reluctantly. She Apparated us quickly.

I looked around, recognizing where we were immediately. We were at Draco's, but we weren't alone. Draco and his parents were there, and a bunch of other Death Eaters, but I wasn't really on first name basis with any of them. Of course, the Dark Lord was there. He stood in the centre of the room, a lipless smile on his face, his red eyes gleaming.

My mother walked off and stood beside Lucius and Narcissa. Lucius and Narcissa shared a look of annoyance, and Draco scoffed and stepped a few feet away from her. Snape gave me a look, a somewhat worried expression on his face, and went over to stand by Draco.

A chill went up my spine and my skin began to crawl. The Dark Lord's eyes met mine, and I blocked my mind off. He rolled his wand in between his fingers and tilted his head to the side. "Hello, Danielle."

I smiled and bowed slightly in his direction.

"Walk closer." I walked closer to him, for some reason suddenly aware that I'd gotten dressed up for the Dark Lord. "Turn," he ordered, his cold voice lilting.

I smiled at him and turned slowly, my arms spread out. I could feel his eyes al lover me, and I could see the other Death Eaters doing the same, simply because their master was doing the same. Oddly enough, I wondered if he thought I was attractive because, well, that was better than him thinking I was ugly. I noticed Lucius looked me over and shrugged, then looked at Narcissa with a smile on his face. Both Snape and Draco seemed very appreciative. I didn't care about any other Death Eaters, even though I knew they were. I was so self-conscious I didn't think I could handle paying attention to anyone else.

When I turned back around to face the Dark Lord, he had that knowing look in his eyes. The one that made me think he had some sort of private joke I didn't understand. "Tell me, Danielle--today is your birthday, is it not? And how old are you?"

"Sixteen, Master," I told him, brushing my hair out of my eyes.

"As a _gift_ to you, Danielle, I will be giving you your Dark Mark."

It was like a cold hand had squeezed my heart, yet at the same time filled me with excitement. "Thank you, Master. I've . . . been wanting one." I sounded stupid. I've been wanting one? What made me say that? How did one talk to an evil lord without sounded stupid though? I don't know, Snape managed it quite well.

"Of course, I don't give the Mark to everybody, so I want you to understand what an honour this is. If you choose not to receive, obviously you will have to be properly taken care of . . ." I knew he meant I would have to be killed. "But, I assume you do want to be in my Inner Circle?"

"Of course, Master."

"Lucius and his family have been very forthcoming about you, and have complimented you, and are very supportive of you. Severus also looks forward to you joining us . . . He _desires_ it, I daresay." The slight emphasis on 'desires' sounded suggestive, and I knew he was making an innuendo about our relationship, probably because I looked like Lily.

"Well, I'm very glad of that."

"However, I cannot make you a part of my Inner Circle without some . . . Proof of your loyalty." I nodded and he rolled his wand in his long, chalk-white fingers. "You told me once before that you hate muggles and mudbloods alike. They are _all _filth, correct?"

"Yes. They have no right to live among us--they're just primitives, Master, and we need advancement." His red eyes blatantly looked me over again. "We must further ourselves. We shouldn't have to hide our obvious superiority, either. They hinder us. And mudbloods, well, they don't deserve to know our power."

He nodded. "Spoken like a true Death Eater. Of course . . . actions speak louder than words . . ." His red eyes slid past me. "Emily? I assume you've raised your daughter properly?"

"Yes," I heard her answer proudly, from behind me.

"Come forward."

I heard her footsteps approach until she was standing right beside me. She was beaming, apparently ecstatic at being ordered about by her master. "Yes, my lord?"

"Let me see both of your wands." We both handed over our wands as he put his wand in his robes. He took them and stared at them studiously. He began to circle us, and we both stood very still. I could feel all of the Death Eaters' eyes on me.

The sense of foreboding I'd had ever since we arrived here, in front of the Dark Lord, skyrocketed. I managed to keep my breath steady and focused on trying to stay calm and to keep my heart rate at a normal pace.

When he was standing in front of us again, he handed me my wand. I took it from him with a grateful nod. He stuck my mum's wand in front of her. She went to take it from him, but he jerked it away, and I heard the Death Eaters snigger behind us. He laughed briefly and airily. "Not quite yet, mudblood," he spat.

She nodded obediently and retracted her hand.

"Danielle . . . kill your filthy mother."

Everything stopped. No sound met my ears. For a wild second, I expected him to tell me he was just kidding around, or for me to wake up. He couldn't have been serious.

Then I realized that he was extremely serious, and that he'd killed his father and his grandparents. My mother was a mudblood. He had earned her Dark Mark killing other mudbloods and muggle, and when she was found of being a mudblood herself, she'd been ordered to kill her muggle husband which she'd been ordered to marry for some reason. He was being completely serious.

"My Lord . . . Not that I am ungrateful, or that I have any feelings towards the filth beside me . . ." I felt so disgusting for saying that about my own mother, even if she was a horrible mum. "But I am afraid that you might be disgusted that I would kill my own mother."

"Of course not, Danielle. I do understand your point, but my word is law, and I killed my own father, so unless you are suggesting that what I've done is disgusting . . ."

"No, no, if you do it, obviously it is not disgusting, and I should feel no shame. But . . . Well . . . I might not be powerful enough. Doesn't it take a truly great wizard to perform such a powerful curse? At least, that's what Professor Moody said. He said that he doubted that we could kill him, even if we all pointed our wands and tried to do it at the same time."

He looked between us. "Oh, Danielle, Severus tells me you are very talented, and powerful. And if at first you don't succeed, try again." It was like he had stabbed me in the gut with a hot poker and started slicing each of my internal organs. I couldn't kill my own mother! "Emily, you know that you are filth, yes?"

I turned to my mother. She was pale and looked like she was about to be sick. She nodded jerkily.

"Do you fear death?"

"Slightly, my lord, but I know what must be done." A tear carved down her cheek.

"If I ordered you to kill your daughter, would you?"

"Yes."

He had removed that hot poker from my gut and slammed me in my heart with it. My own mother would kill me if ordered.

"Danielle, you either kill her, or I will be forced to get rid of you, and then kill her anyway. If your spell is not strong enough, keep doing it until it works. You have to really mean it."

Blocking my mind was easy, but quashing my fear was not.

"Point your wand at her."

I took a few steps back and pointed my wand right at her chest. She stood there, her hands in a fist. My hands were freezing, yet they were sweaty. My blood was rushing past my ears, and everyone was staring at me, and I was about to become a murderer. I'd known I was going to be forced to kill, but I hadn't thought about it. Not really. And not about killing my own mother.

"I didn't raise a mudblood lover, Danielle, now do it." I blinked a few times. She would kill me if she had the chance. If she had the orders. "I've killed people using the spell before, dear, it's only a second. I'll be dead in a split second. There won't be any pain. You must do it for the bigger picture. And you'll die if you don't, and then I'll die anyway. It isn't hard, really." Despite the fact her voice was wavering and cracking slightly, she sounded entirely serious.

It was just two simple words. They weren't hard to say. And I would die if I didn't say them, and she would kill me without a second thought . . . It would be painless, onl yaplit second, she said . . . Whenever I had a nightmare, she came in and asked if I was all right . . . And she told me I was pretty sometimes . . . I had to be a Death Eater in order to become a spy and help the order and be in control and stay alive . . . she made me laugh so hard once milk had come out of my nose . . .

I swallowed the lump in my throat, feeling clammy and sick. _Keep your emotions bottled up,_ I told myself.

"Avada Kedavra," I said. There was a small flash of light, and my mother stumbled, but did not fall.

She let out a breath, and shook her head. "Try harder! I don't want this to take forever!" she snapped, eyes wide, tears streaming down her face.

I took in a deep breath. "Avada Kedavra," I repeated more firmly. It did the same thing, only this time she stumbled a bit more.

"Dammit, Danielle, you're not weak! And this hurts! I'd kill you in your position, and I'd do it a lot quicker!"

"Avada Kedavra!" I shouted, this time the green flash brighter.

She stumbled backwards and clutched her chest, letting out a slight wheezing breath. "Danielle, this hurts! Just hurry the bloody thing up! It's supposed to be painless!" she screamed at me, like this was one of our natural, everyday arguments.

"Avada Kedavra!"

She stumbled again, the flash of green light blinding, my fear filling in my chest, begging for him to tell me I didn't have to; that I'd passed his stupid bloody test; that I'd proved my loyalty. Of course I didn't want her to die. My hand was shaking. I could hear people sniggering.

Her nose started trickling slightly with blood, and she let out a small cry of pain and held her chest, then wiped her nose on the back of her hand. How could I do this? But I would die if I didn't, and then she would die right after.

"Dammit, you filthy little mudblood lover! This bleeding hurts--can't you make this quick?"

"Avada Kedavra!" I screamed. My throat was dry and my voice was hoarse. It must've been obvious by now that I was not really willing to do it. The Dark Lord must be getting ready to strike me down.

She coughed and blood splattered out of her mouth, blood rushing out of both of her nostrils. The blood was around her mouth made her seem even paler.

"Dammit, you're not even trying!" she screamed.

"I'm trying, Mum! It's hard!" I shouted, almost in tears.

"Yes, well, try harder!"

I hated her at the moment. Why couldn't she be mad at me? Why couldn't she start crying, like I wanted to? Why did she have to agree with the Dark Lord?

I shouted the killing curse three times in a row, screaming it at the top of my lungs, so angry at her for agreeing with him, thinking of every mean thing she'd ever said to me. The green light was so bright that when it finally dissipated, I could see the after image, and I had to blink a few times to get my normal vision back.

My mother was lying on the ground, obviously dead, with blood around her mouth and underneath her nose. My mother was dead. I had killed her. Something that felt like realization swam over me. It was like the world had stopped moving and a wave crashed over me, and the only thing in the world that was true was that I had killed my mother. And she'd stood there and taken it. And it hadn't been fast, like I'd wanted it to.

"Ah . . . Your first killing. Perhaps you should go out and celebrate. Severus? Take her somewhere to celebrate, won't you?"

He walked over to me and put his hand on my upper arm, his face void of any expression. "Yes, my lord. I will make sure she fully enjoys herself."

We both turned and started towards the door, although I guess it was more like he was leading me. My eyes burned and my throat closed up. I felt like my insides were shaking.

"Wait," the Dark Lord said.

I wanted to ram my wand down his throat and shoot the killing curse into his organs.

We both turned, me being extra careful to keep my face straight. "Yes?"

"You persevered. I know some who would have given up after the first failure. I know Wormtail couldn't even kill his first few without my help." He nodded his head towards an odd looking man who reminded me of a rat for some weird reason.

I nodded, feeling hollow and blank, keeping my mind blocked. "I was nervous."

"And how do you feel, Danielle?"

_Disgusted,_ I thought.

"Powerful. Almost God-like," I answered.

He seemed satisfied, and waved his hand in dismissal in our direction.

We turned again and started towards the door, me almost clinging onto Snape's arm, breathing steadily, trying not to burst into tears or vomit or scream or anything, really.

"Make sure she enjoys herself, Severus," he said from behind us, his cold, high voice dripping with innuendo.

I saw Snape clench his teeth and close his eyes briefly. His jaw tightened, as did his grip on my arm. I'm sure I would've been upset normally, but at the moment I just felt empty and queasy at the same time. My eyes were burning, too.

"I will, my lord."


	21. Chapter 24

Chapter 24: Comfort

He Apparated, the feeling only making me more nauseous. When we arrived at our destination, I was clutching onto his arm and leaning against him, feeling as though if I let go of him I would fall to the floor.

He led me over to my bed. I sat on my mattress, my hands shaking and my eyes burning.

Snape left my room, but I didn't know why.

I stared at my hands, which were getting blurrier as my tears started to drop down my face. I couldn't get the image of my mother's dead face out of my mind. She didn't look peaceful, or like she was sleeping, like I had always read them described as, or saw them in the movies. She' been pale, and her eyes seemed . . . hollow, like those of a doll. The blood around her mouth and nose was unfortunate--she couldn't even die with a clean face.

It was weird knowing that she was never going to drink punch again or ever know the feeling of slipping into a warm bath on a cold night or yell at me again. It was strange knowing that this house would be empty when I was at school, or that she wasn't walking around in the living room, or bringing in some strange wizard from the Leaky Cauldron. No, she was dead, and she wasn't ever going to step foot in this house again. She wasn't going to step foot anywhere.

Even though I had tears in my eyes, I wasn't crying. Someone was dead because of me. I had killed someone. I felt disgusting. It was like something filthy had crawled inside of me. I was a killer--I didn't' deserve to live. How could this be helpful to the war? How could killing anyone help Dumbledore win?

And why couldn't she had screamed out in far, or cried, or begged for mercy? Obviously that would've made it harder for me, but it just seemed so wrong that she hadn't reacted that way. She had sacrificed herself for something she believed in. It was wrong and yet . . . It was what a good person would do. It was almost heroic . . . Why couldn't she have been a coward? Why did she have to tell me to do it?

After what seemed like hours, although in my mind I knew it had only been a few seconds, I heard Snape come back into my room. He knelt in front of me and held a glass of water in front of me. "Here, drink this," he offered. He nudged my hand with it. It was cold.

I shook my head. It felt like my brain smashed against the sides of my skull when I did that. My eyes burned even more when I blinked, and my lips pursed. "I don't want it."

"Danielle, you're in shock. Your brain is soaking up all the nutrients in your body for energy to produce an endorphin to put your body in a numb state. If you do not drink this water, you may become ill, or even dehydrated."

I stared at the glass and had the urge to knock it from his hands. I wasn't in the mood to think of myself. No, I didn't deserve to be healthy at all--I was a murderer. Why was he even offering? He should be telling me how disgusting I was, not offering me a drink.

My breath was coming in short gasps and I was sweating, even though I felt cold. My head hurt. A glass of water would be nice . . . My throat was dry, and I was thirsty . . .

Instead of knocking it out of his hand like I had wanted to, I took it from him, my hands shaking, and I took a sip. The cool water soothed my throat and did seem to make my body feel less ill. But I still felt rotten and disgusting. I took another sip as I thought of my mother's dead body, the contrasting colours of the red blood on her mouth compared to her green dress. My stomach churned, and it felt like I was going to throw up the water I had just drank. I swallowed more cool water, hoping that would keep the bile down.

"I think this water is making me sick," I murmured when my stomach churned even more. He didn't' say anything. He was still kneeling in front of me. I wanted to break the glass and slice my wrists and die like I deserved to. Instead I just drank more of it.

He continued looking at me, a sympathetic expression on his face.

I knew that I had to kill her. In order to be a spy, I had to play the part convincingly. It couldn't have been avoided without my death. But I still felt guilty. It wasn't like I was that important. Maybe I should've let the Dark Lord kill me.

I wondered what memories Snape was seeing while he looked into my eyes, or if he was just seeing my emotions, or if he could even feel my emotions. Could a legilimens do that?

He watched as I drank my water slowly. For whatever reason, drinking the water did help a bit. Snape stared at me while I sipped my cold water. He'd killed people. How many times had he killed someone? Did he feel like this every single time? He had wanted to be a Death Eater in the beginning, so maybe not. But eventually eh switches sides; he would've felt this way. How many other Death Eaters did?

After I finished my glass of water, he took the glass from me and put it on my dresser (which was beside my bed), using his wand to fill up the glass. Obviously he used aguamenti, but I didn't hear him say it because I wasn't really paying attention.

He sat next to me on my bed, in between me and the dresser, probably so that he could hand the glass to me if he though I needed to drink more water, or if I asked. My dresser was on the same end of my bed as my pillow.

I sniffed and screwed up my face, trying to stop my tears. How could people do this and enjoy it? It didn't make sense! People actually could kill and not feel remorse afterwards.

He handed me my glass and waited for me to finish drinking the water. When I finished that glass and handed it to him, he put it back on the dresser.

"You haven't said anything," I noted out loud, my head stuffy and my voice a bit hoarse.

"Did you want me to?" he asked quietly.

I shrugged. "I don't know. I just figured you would."

"What could I say? Tell you that you had no choice; that it was necessary? Nothing I say can make the pain go away." His voice was low and had a melancholic tone to it.

I knew he was right. If he had said anything, anything about it getting better, or that it wasn't that big of a deal, or him telling me stories of when he did something similar, I would have just gotten angry with him.

"Does it . . . get easier?" I asked timidly, my voice shaking as the hot tears filled my lids. I looked at him, hoping for him to say it did.

He furrowed his eyebrows. "At times, yes. Until at night, when you're half-asleep, and you realize just what you've done, and the only way you continue to live is . . . through telling yourself it had to be done. That you could not have prevented it."

Well, that didn't really help me much.

"She wasn't so bad, sometimes," I stated. He tilted his head slightly. "She was actually a crappy mum, yeah, but still . . . She was my mum. It wasn't like she beat me or anything. And she really . . . She really believed in what he said, too. She died for him. Willingly. She . . . just stood there. Couldn't she have yelled at me or begged me to stop? I mean, did she have to be a hero?"

I was near tears at this point.

"I mean, she just stood there, and let me kill her, and I didn't want to. And it should've been quick and painless, and I had to say it so many times, and I didn't want her to die, sir . . ." My voice cracked and I sniffed. "She didn't deserve the pain. She just wanted it to be quick, and I couldn't even do that, how can I do this? God, I can't do this!"

And I broke down into sobs. I tried not to, but I couldn't help it. "I didn't want to do it, Professor, I didn't want to! How can this even be helpful? How can murder be helpful? I killed my own mum!" I sobbed, holding my head in my hands.

He put his arms around my shoulder and I leaned against his chest, unable to stop the tears from coming. He ran his fingers through my hair and held me close, letting me cry all over his robes. I'd probably feel stupid when I finished crying, but at the moment, I didn't care.

He didn't tell me to stop whining, or that it would be okay, or tell stories of when he went through something similar. He didn't say anything. He just put his arms around me and ran his fingers through my hair, and let me sob.

It felt as though I would never get over this sadness. How could I? How could I ever live happily again, when I knew I'd killed my mother?

After I cried into his chest, my head pounding, my eyes puffy-feeling, and I knew my nose was running, I felt weak--fatigued. My head pounded and it felt as though my body was filled with lead. I felt stupid, like I knew I would, but I just couldn't really care much at the moment.

Snape practically laid me down on my bed and put the blankets over me. The blankets were warm. Snape was still sitting next to my lying body, brushing my hair out of my puffy eyes. I knew I looked ridiculous, but I found that I still couldn't make myself care. He didn't seem too bothered by it, though.

"He forgot my Dark Mark," I realized aloud, rather suddenly. I had killed my mother for no reason.

"No, he hasn't. We will return after we, ah, _enjoy ourselves_, as the Dark Lord put it."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "So, what, this is like stag night?" He blinked a few times. "You know, the night before a wedding, the groom goes out and gets totally pissed off of whiskey or whatever, then he gets a bunch of girls to strip for him, and they have cakes shaped like boobs. Or penises, for the girls, and stripping guys."

"I understand what stag night is, but I have never . . . Compared it to this. Though I suppose it is an accurate description . . . Though you will be sorely disappointed if you expect alcohol, since that would not be wise in your current state. Also, there will be no cakes shaped like a penis." He said it with the smallest of smiles.

I couldn't help a small, somewhat tearful, chuckle. "And what about you stripping? Any luck with me getting that?"

"Now _that _is strictly reserved for when _I_ drink alcohol."

I laughed at that, wiping the few tears away from my cheeks. "Well, then, the next time you decide to get drunk, don't forget to invite me."

"And fully humiliate myself? I think not. I'm nothing to look upon."

"I think you are," I said with a small smile. It was true. I did find myself staring at him quite often. Mostly his hands and mouth and, well, his eyes held a sort of intensity I found attractive . . . Actually, I found _him_ attractive. If I saw someone who even resembled him, I automatically swooned and thought of how I longed to see him. God, was I blind? Crazy?

His thin-lipped smile reminded me of the full smile he'd given me earlier that day, and even though I still felt depressed, I did smile at the thought of it.

Snape, very casually as though he did it everyday with everyone, lied down beside me, although he stayed on top of the blankets. I remembered a small memory he let me watch (and I use the word 'let' purposely, because I doubt anyone could break into his mind without his permission, no matter how good I thought I was at legilimency) where he was lying beside Lily on a bed. I pushed that thought away, and just relished the thought that he was lying beside me.

I felt a twinge of nervousness, but I still upset over my mum, so I paid it little attention.

Somehow, I found my head on his chest, and Snape's arm under my neck, almost like a pillow would be. He was warm and he smelled good, and I suppose I could consider this 'cuddling' but it didn't really sound Snape-like enough. It was a comforting embrace. That sounded like something Snape would do.

"I'm not going to promise that this will ever be all right, nor will I promise the pain will subside. This is only the first atrocity you'll have to commit." I nodded, rather awkwardly since my head was on his chest. What he sadi didn't really maek me feel any better. "The only promise I can make is that I . . . will be here for you, no matter the circumstance."

I could tell that it was hard for him to say by the way he hesitated, and how his tone was somewhat constricted, like he was trying to talk without moving his lips.

"I know," I whispered.

He held me closer; tighter. It was like he was afraid I'd pull away, which I wouldn't ever do, of course. He really was the only one I could go to in this situation. Well, I suppose any adult in the Order would understand my grief, but I didn't know any of them very well. And what did they know of being a spy for the Dark Lord?

"Professor?" I began, curling up next to him, feeling somewhat drowsy. Crying usually made me tired afterwards, and being in Snape's comfortable arms with his cologne (which I had yet to figure out) wasn't helping any. Neither was the fact I was thoroughly depressed, and when I was depressed, I actually had hypersomnia, and tended to just want to sleep all day.

"Yes, Danielle?"

"I'll always be there for you, too."

I felt him kiss the top of my head, and the arm that was underneath my neck snaked around me a bit more and stroked my hair a bit.

* * *

We fell asleep on the bed like that for about an hour or so before Snape woke me up and said we should probably return to get my ever-bleeding-glorious Dark Mark. Even though I'd woke up in Snape's arms, I still felt incredibly sad, like a part of me had been torn away and hidden; almost like part of me was lost. Still, though, waking up in Snape's arms did do wonders. At least I wasn't entertaining thoughts about suicide. And I smelled wonderful.

"You'll have to shower, or at least wash your face. Your distress will be only too obvious if you return with your makeup smeared."

I nodded and walked a bit clumsily to the loo, deciding that I'd rather wash my face than take a shower, since that took longer, and I felt a bit lazy at the moment. I reapplied my makeup, fixed my hair a bit, then returned to my room, where Snape stood waiting patiently.

I walked up to him noticing that the hair on the back of his head was sticking out awkwardly. I grinned at the sight of it. Snape with bed hair. It was a bit funny. The odd feeling of contentment reared up in my chest, and I almost smacked myself for deciding that, even _if_ it was Snape, it was cute.

"Your hair is all messed up," I stated as I stepped in front of him. I stood on my tiptoes and reached behind him, using both of my hands to smooth the back of his head. I knew his face was mere centimetres from mine. I knew that my vision moved from his eyes to his mouth, and that me stretching my arms over my head to reach the back of his to pat his hair down forced my breasts to push out a little, so that my flattering green robes showed a tiny bit more cleavage.

Even after I managed to get his hair back to normal, my hands stayed on the back of his head for a second. Being this close to him only reminded me of how I'd kissed him earlier, and I wondered if he thought of it too . . . And I thought about how my mother had interrupted him kissing me.

Thinking of my mother brought back my depression, which actually felt like someone had dumped a huge weight onto my shoulders. I pulled my hands away form the back of his head, but then smooth the side of his hair and brushed a greasy strand away form his eyes. I felt my eyes prickle slightly when I remembered inwardly calling my mum a stupid bitch for interrupting our kiss.

I put my arms at my side, but I didn't step away from Snape.

He put his arm around mine, and Apparated me back to the manor. Thankfully, most of the Death Eaters had gone home. Except for the Malfoy family. Who were already home. Obviously. For a minute there I hadn't understood why Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco were still waiting around.

"She has returned for the Dark Mark, my lord."

"And did you two have fun?" the Dark Lord asked us.

"We went to Florean Fortescue's. I wanted ice cream."

The Dark Lord blinked a few times. I shifted uncomfortably. I figured that I should make up a lie that proved I was indifferent to what had just happened, and getting ice cream after murder just felt indifferent. Perhaps what I'd said was inappropriate, because the Dark Lord, Lucius, and Narcissa were staring at the two of us strangely. Draco seemed to be lost in thought, as if what I'd said was somehow important to him.

The Dark Lord, after a moment of narrowing his red eyes, seemed to accept what I'd said. "Of course. Ice cream. I vaguely remember . . . _that_. Step forward, please."

I did so.

"I'll need your left arm."

I stuck out my left arm and rolled up my green sleeve. He stuck his wand to my forearm. When he was busy looking at my skin, I glanced back at Snape, suddenly wondering if getting the Dark Mark hurt. He didn't make any expression, so I looked back at the Dark Lord, who was running a white finger over my flesh. I wanted to push his hand away and tell him to never touch me again. I wanted to force him to feel the pain I'd just been through for making me kill my mother--see how he liked having a conscience. I hated this man. My hatred burned like a raging fire, scorching violently. It consumed my insides, burning so intensely it was amazing the Dark Lord could not feel it burning his flesh.

Getting the Dark Mark burned just as much as my hatred for the Dark Lord did, and the only thing that stopped me from jerking my arm away (although I did clench my teeth and hiss in pain, my arm shaking as he burned my flesh with his wand, intricately carving his design) was knowing that I was going to be a part of his downfall, and I needed to watch him die.

* * *

A/N--I'm going to my mother's house this weekend, and she doesn't have a computer, but I will try and find an Internet connection somewhere, or at least write a chapter during the weekend with my extra time.


	22. Chapter 25

Chapter 25: Bad Mood

"I'm a prefect," Draco stated randomly when he walked up to me, puffing out his chest slightly so I couldn't miss his shiny badge.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Yeah, I know. You and Pansy. Fifth year prefects for Slytherin."

"You weren't ever a prefect," he pointed out, as if I didn't already know that.

"Really? I hadn't noticed," I responded sarcastically. He continued staring at me smugly. "I'm not Snape's favourite--you are, so obviously he'd pick you and your girlfriend. Plus, I get detention all the time. Well, not _all_ the time."

"Well, maybe if you did more of your work, and didn't walk around after curfew . . ."

"Because _you_ don't walk around after curfew, do you?" I said smugly. "Besides, I don't get caught _that_ much."

Draco nodded, then plopped down on the couch next to me. He ran a hand through his slicked back hair, looked around to make sure nobody was close enough to overhear what he said, then leaned close to me. "You've got a free pass with me and Pansy. If we catch you wandering around after curfew. We don't take points from most of the Slytherins, unless they _really_ deserve it, but we do give detentions. But with you, we won't. We made an agreement."

I nodded gratefully. "Thanks, Draco. That's really nice. But, er, why?"

"Well, you're my friend. Crabbe and Goyle have got free passes too. Of course, you realize, that as soon as word gets around that we give free passes, others will want one too, and then you won't have it anymore, am I clear?"

I nodded once and mock-saluted him. "Crystal."

"Great. Oh, um . . ." He looked around again, and leaned closer. "My dad told me to ask if you're interested in a monthly allowance. He'll send it directly to you, and you can put it in your vault at Gringott's. Your mother didn't have much money, did she?"

I shrugged my shoulders, feeling awkward but not showing it. I didn't really want to talk about my mother's death with him. "Well, enough for the funeral, and to pay the bills for a few months. All of the bills. I guess I could get a summer job . . ."

"You live in a muggle house, I thought?"

"Yeah, but I just converted the currency and paid for the next few months in advance, 'cause I explained my situation."

"Yeah, well, that's why Father is giving you an allowance. You can move out, if you like, into somewhere more appropriate. Now that you don't have filth living with you, you don't have to stay in that neighbourhood anymore. Trust me, Dani, with the money my dad is talking about giving you, you'll fare pretty well. It's a pretty hefty sum."

I shook my head. "No, I'm fine, really. I don't want to take all your money."

"Actually, Father won't take no as an answer. He can claim it on his taxes or something, so it'll cost him less in the long run. It's just chump change to us."

I guess a nobler person would still refuse. But I liked this idea of not having to work, and having an allowance from his incredibly rich family, even if it was just a tax break. "Okay. Of course, I'll have to get my current house ready for selling while I save up for a new house."

"Good. Get out of that filthy muggle neighbourhood while you can. Now that you're in the Inner Circle, you'll probably have to leave the school for missions and all that, and you'll probably want to stop by your own house too, and I doubt you'd want to be surrounded by all that disgusting, primitive stuff. Now that you don't have to live with a mudblood, thing will probably be much better." He flashed a smug grin at me. He probably thought that was comforting to me.

I pretended that I wasn't bothered, and tried not to think of my mother's dead face. "You're right."

"And you're a NEWT student now, too."

"Yep."

"So what do you think about that new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?"

I shrugged, thinking of the blonde, toad-like woman who had interrupted Dumbledore during the Welcoming Feast. She reminded me of a naïve little schoolgirl, some twelve-year-old girl who lived a sheltered life and whose parents hadn't even told her about sex yet. She was all sickly sweet and seemed to think that she was the most important person to walk the planet. And what idiot interrupted Dumbledore?

"I don't know. She seems . . . strange."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Father says she's a bit odd."

"They know each other?"

He nodded importantly, as if I had just asked him if he was the king of all England. "Yes, Father is important in the ministry--you know this, of course. Highly influential."

Of course, I already knew this, but Draco always had to brag about everything in his life, and so I just nodded. "Yeah," I said without any real meaning to it.

Draco narrowed his grey eyes. "Is everything all right? You seem a bit down."

I wanted to scream 'duh' but instead I just shrugged. "Just a little. Sorta wish it was still summer vacation, you know."

"Oh . . . Right, yeah me too. Anyway . . ." He scooted a bit closer to me and looked around to make sure that no one could hear us. His lowered his voice. "I haven't been able to talk to you since your birthday, but I just wanted to say what you did was, well . . ."

I blinked a few times and I felt my lips purse, although only for a second. I had spent the remainder of my summer alone in my house and hadn't talked to anybody. I didn't want to talk about my mother, or what I had done to her to be more specific, and I definitely didn't want to talk about it with someone like Draco. I didn't want to be praised and have to act proud.

"That I did a good job? Spare it, Draco--I did horribly. I'm not that talented. It took me like a hundred times to get the job done."

Draco shook his head, his platinum brows furrowed. "No, no, not to tell you what a great job you did. I've never really seen someone's first kill, so I wouldn't know. But . . . What was it like? Killing your mum, I mean. Killing a mudblood."

"I don't know. I guess I felt powerful. Mostly glad I didn't have to live with her anymore. Why?"

Draco nodded, but he seemed a bit preoccupied with his thoughts for a moment. "Yes . . . well . . . It seemed a bit harsh, but if you say it wasn't that bad, well, then, it can't have been, right?"

He moved to get up when I realized what he had said. I put my arm on his shoulder, halting him. He stopped getting off of the couch and sat back down with ease, looking at me with confusion. I removed my hand and nodded a bit. "It wasn't easy, Draco. It was . . . harsh. No matter the fact she was a mudblood, she was still my mum. But it had to be done, to complete the Dark Lord's vision."

He nodded. "Good. I was starting to think I was . . . But if you think it was harsh too, then obviously I'm not having second thoughts, am I? You still feel powerful, right?"

I nodded, feeling sick to my stomach. Draco had been having second thoughts. Should I encourage them, or discourage them? "Yes, of course."

"Right. Well, then . . . That's great. Power. Who doesn't love power?" He flashed a brief smile at me, nodded, then left me alone on the couch.

I noticed that some of the Slytherins who were either Death Eaters or had Death Eater parents were looking at me. I knew why they were looking at me and I didn't like it. So I went up to the dormitory and sat on my bed, looking for a book to read although none of the ones I'd brought sounded very interesting at the moment.

To be honest, nothing sounded interesting at any moment; not since my birthday. In fact, the only thing I'd done at all after her death was use all of my mother's will money paying for the bills for the next few months and her funeral, then giving a crap-load to a charity for an orphanage. That's right--I gave all of the money I hadn't used to a charity for kids who didn't have parents when I had killed my own mother. The irony was not lost on me.

I had spent the rest of August lying in my bed all day. I literally had to force myself to the shower every three days, simply because I knew that if I did not force myself at that time then I wouldn't have bathed or showered at all. It was disgusting, yes, but I seriously couldn't care about anything at the moment, much less my hygiene. Other than the showers, I had spent the rest of my time either in bed, or forcing myself to eat a sandwich when I got so hungry my stomach was growling and churning painfully. Even then, I found that I didn't really want to eat, and forcing a sandwich down into my stomach seemed to make me want to vomit, but it quelled the pain for a few moments at least.

I had tried reading several books over the last bit of August, but I had only managed a page or so in most of them before just tossing them on my ground and rolling over to sleep. I had been sleeping quite often, actually. I probably got about sixteen straight hours of sleep a night, not to mention a few twenty-minute catnaps during the day. The half-finished books reformed in my dreams, which were very detailed and I never wanted to wake from them, because the dreams I dreamt were far more interesting that staring at my ceiling all day long when I wasn't forcing myself to eat or shower.

I had actually considered sending a letter to Hogwarts informing them that I would not be attending that year, because I just didn't feel like dragging my feet to the Hogwarts Express or to Hogwarts in general. I didn't feel like going to classes when I wanted desperately to sleep all day. I didn't want to bathe or get dressed or read or anything--just sleep. Nothing seemed even remotely interesting to me. Absolutely nothing. The only reason I even made it to Hogwarts was because I knew that if I didn't show then it would be obvious I was bothered by what I'd done. Even then, I'd left as late as possible and hoped that I'd be late and have no way of getting to Hogwarts. I managed to get to the Express on time, however.

I reflected on how the last half of August had been. For being only about two weeks, it had seemed like much longer. And I had felt sad most of the time. All right, not sad, but down right depressed. I had spent the whole time sniffling mostly to myself, wishing that something would somehow kill me for no good reason. It wasn't' that I wanted to kill myself, but I desperately wanted something else to kill me. Honestly, if the Dark Lord himself showed up at Hogwarts and pointed his wand right at me and threatened to kill me, I would probably welcome death with my arms wide open.

I wondered if I should have just stayed home, because I had already made up my mind, and I was not going to school the next day. I was going to miss my first day of classes, and I couldn't care less if anybody noticed or not.

* * *

What day was it?

I hadn't left the dormitory for anything more than loo breaks and to go to dinner, where I only ate about a fourth of what I put on my plate. Each night at dinner Draco asked if I was going to any of my classes the next day, to which I told him wasn't any of his business considering he wasn't even in my year. Honestly. Why the hell should he care?

A few people had come up to talk to me while I was in bed. I didn't' wan them near me, so I always told them to bugger off, and if they stayed, I would snap at everything they said to me until they left. I didn't' want anyone talking to me. If I wanted to have a conversation, I would go and start one, wouldn't I? People started getting snappy with me, but I didn't care, because they weren't worth my time anyway.

And yes, I knew that I was in a bitchy mood, but I really didn't care about that either.

I hadn't gone to any of my classes for the past two weeks. I'd ate dinner, showered when I thought I smelled unpleasant, and read a few chapters in some of my books before I tossed them aside because there just wasn't any point in reading them since they were all stupid anyway. I just couldn't' get interested in them. I also slept, which made time pass quickly.

But I still couldn't figure out what day it was. Most of the days seemed to bleed together. The first day of school seemed like years ago, though at the same time I knew it had only been two weeks.

"Saturday," I said suddenly, remembering what day it was.

"What was that?" Jasmine asked, a girl in my year who spoke to me occasionally. I had a suspicion that she had a thing for Snape, since she had been the one to say I didn't deserve Snape and she didn't know what he saw in me. Thinking of Snape made me feel guilty for some reason.

"I just forgot what day it was."

"Yeah, well, maybe if you went to class once in awhile, you'd remember. You're going to fail if you don't start going."

I rolled my eyes and sneered at her. "Oh my God, really?" I said in a fake-whiny voice. "Since you care so much about my bleeding existence, I'm just gonna start going right now!"

Jasmine scoffed. "Well excuse me for caring. I won't ask again." She then went to waltz out of the room, but then she spun on her heel and regarded me. "Dinner's starting, just in case you've decided to stop being anorexic."

Then she walked out of the dormitory.

* * *

Despite my better judgment, I was sitting in front of Draco at dinner, poking my food with my fork with no real intention of eating it, wondering if I stopped eating long enough if I would just die.

"Dani, er, are you going to classes Monday?" he asked, like I knew he would.

"Why do you care? It's not like I'm in any of your classes." I got tired of this conversation.

"Well, maybe some of us actually have feelings unlike you," he snapped, pursing his lips and cocking his head back smugly.

I dropped my fork on my plate and scoffed. "What do you know about feelings Draco? What do you know about anything other than walking around like you own the bloody place? You're just a spoiled little prat anyway."

"You better watch your tone, Dani."

"Or you'll what? Glare at me?" I growled, picking up my fork.

"I'll take points."

I rolled my eyes. "Oooooh! Oh my God! Whatever will I do if we don't get the House Cup at the end of this year like we never do because that old codger gives Gryffindor points every time we even might possibly win?" Normally I liked Dumbledore, but now that I thought about it, he did seem to favour Gryffindor more than Slytherin . . .

"What the hell is your problem lately, huh?"

I shook my head and scoffed. "I don't have a problem, Draco."

"Really? Well, you fooled me." He sneered at me and looked me up and down. "You barely even leave the dormitory! And you haven't set foot in any of your classes, either. Something's wrong."

"What the hell would you know about my life anyway, Draco? Like you really give a shit."

Draco dropped his fork and narrowed his eyes at me. We glared at each other, and I felt angry at him, although I wasn't exactly sure why. Still, it wasn't any of his business if I was in a bad mood. He didn't know what it was like to kill anyone, especially not anyone he cared about.

"That's right, Dani, I don't care, that's why I'm actually asking about your well-being, right? But now I'm thinking maybe you're better off in your room moping about how horrible your life is, because then I won't have to see your pasty face anymore. God, you certainly have gone to the dogs, haven't you? Don't even care about your own appearance, why should you care about anyone else? Certainly didn't care about your mother, did you?"

That was the last straw. I don't know how Draco always knew exactly what I didn't want to hear, or how he could say those things and not feel bad about it, but it bothered me, and I stood up, slamming my hands down on the table. A few of the people around me looked at me in confusion, but they all kept their mouths shut. Good.

"Shut your mouth, Draco. You don't even know how bad my life is, so shut the hell up!"

He stood up too, grey eyes wide and smug smirk plastered on his face. "Oh, yeah, 'cause your life is so much worse than anyone else's at this table right?"

"What do you know about problems? When has anything in your perfect little life not gone exactly how you wanted it? At least I have feelings!"

He leaned forward slightly. "You think you're the only one with problems, huh? Starting to act like Potter. Well why don't you go and sit at his table then, and lick his boots with the rest of them? You know, I'm starting to think there's a reason why no one likes you."

I scoffed and shook my head. "Sod off, Draco." With that, I left the Great Hall.

I stormed through the corridors, feeling my eyes prickle. What did Draco know about me anyway? He didn't know what it was like to kill his own mother. And he didn't know what it was like to have no ambition towards anything, not anymore, anyway. He didn't know what it was like to have nothing to look forward too in life. He didn't have this gaping black hole inside of him that seemed to suck and drain every bit of life away. He didn't know what it was like to be unloved. He was popular and had people always following him. People barely spoke to me, and when they did, it was only superficial talk. The only people I could consider real friends were Snape and Draco, and I hadn't talked to or seen Snape since my birthday because I just couldn't face him and a spoiled little git who I still couldn't understand why I even considered a friend anyway. Draco didn't know the first thing about me, and I had a far worse life than he did.

I slammed the portrait shut behind me and sat on the couch, staring at the fire. Sod school. I was just going to pack up and leave and go back to my house. Hell, maybe I would just go up to Dumbledore and tell him to fake my death so I could go into hiding and stay at Grimmauld Place so I wouldn't have to deal with anything anymore. What was so important for me to keep fighting anyway? What real importance did I have in this war? If I died, would it affect anything?

I sat there, brooding, for quite awhile before I heard someone come in. I didn't' turn to see who it was, because I had a suspicion as to who before he even spoke.

"Snape wants to see you in his office," Draco informed.

I got out of the couch and looked at him. Pansy was beside him, giving me the dirty look she always reserved just for me.

"Why? Did he say?"

Draco just shrugged. "Considering how you've been acting lately, what the hell do you think it's about?"

"Maybe my charming personality."

Draco scoffed and shook his head. "You know, Dani, I really liked you better before you got your Dark Mark. Think you're so special just because you're a Death Eater. Guess what, precious? Your mum had teh Mark too, and so do loads of other people, so get the hell over it. You talk about me not having feelings. Well, you're the one who killed her own mum and then had ice cream right after."

I repressed the urge to curse him into oblivion. I stood there, hand shaking, teeth clenching, and anger fuming. "You stupid git."

"Go do the world a favour and slice your wrists," he spat, then brought Pansy up to the boys' dormitory.

I wanted to think of something as equally as insulting, but I couldn't. Draco had a talent of knowing just what to say; exactly what hurt. It was like he knew I'd wanted to die. It was like he knew I felt worthless and disgusting.

Deciding that if I didn't go see Snape then he would come see me and he wouldn't be very pleased about it, I left the common room and started towards Snape's office.

I knocked on his door, knowing I had a sour expression on my face.

"Enter," he said from inside his office.

I opened the door and walked in, sitting in the chair across from him. Seeing him for the first time in awhile always made me feel like slipping into a warm bath, even if the warm contentment was only for a moment.

"I'm very concerned for you."

I nodded jerkily and folded my arms.

"I could pretend not to know what it is you're upset about, but that would not be helpful to you, nor would it please me to feign ignorance. What happened on your birthday is something horrible and your depression is something to be expected. However, no matter the circumstance, you must continue living on normally. Draco has seen to me; he was very upset, and--"

"And precious Draco's feelings are most important of all, right?" I snapped.

"Don't interrupt me," he ordered, glaring at me with his black eyes glittering. "He is very concerned for you. I am very concerned for you."

I let out a harsh breath and shook my head, leaning back against my chair. "Really? Well, in that case, I'll just be my normal, bubbly self. In case you don't remember, I killed my mum, so excuse me if I'm in a bad mood. Like you know what I'm going through--no one here does."

"This petulant attitude is not becoming of you, Danielle."

"Well, then, doll me up and make me becoming, since you're obviously a master at being attractive."

It was like I had smacked him across the face, the way he reacted.

"Danielle, do you think I've never been bothered by what I've done in my past?" he asked dangerously, his voice low and intimidating. "I have killed more people--wizards and muggles alike--than you can possibly imagine. I have tortured girls younger than you. There was a time I enjoyed it. If you believe that you are the only one who has ever had to endure this sort of pain, then you are mistaken, and I would appreciate it if you would stop acting like a child."

"You didn't kill your mum, did you?" I snapped, knowing full well that he was right.

"It is my fault Lily Evans is dead. I loved her more than I have ever loved anything, and I have killed her. Do you think I have no feelings of regret? Do you think I _enjoy_ knowing that? Do you realize how many nights I have stayed awake, lying there, wishing that I were dead as well? Do you realize how many faces have looked at me in fear, and I have had to pretend not to care about them? Do you know what it is like to wish for death so strongly that it seems living any moment longer is the most horrid punishment? Perhaps you have known that pain this last month. I have known that pain for fifteen years."

When he put it like that, it didn't make me feel any better, and I realized that I really had no reason to continue living if I had that to look forward to. I also realized that what I felt was nothing compared to what he felt.

"Now, if you could cease your selfishness, I would appreciate it. I had not wanted to become harsh with you."

"Maybe I can't be like you. Maybe I quit. Maybe I want to go into hiding. Maybe I can't turn my feelings off like you can."

His black eyes moved over my face. "I think I'm beginning to understand what this is. You thought you could play hero, yes? You thought that this would be an amusing game for you to play, that everything would fall into place, simply because you graced the situation with your presence. You gave no thought whatsoever about the costs." He voice was taunting and cold, and I could tell that he aimed to hurt me.

He aimed quite well, because each word felt like a stab to the heart.

"You know that's not true, Snape. You're just trying to hurt me because you've never changed, and you're still the ugly git that Lily rejected," I growled, wanting to hurt him as much as he hurt me, feeling remorse as soon as the words left my mouth.

"I'm starting to believe you were right all along, and that you do not deserve to resemble Lily as much as you do," he spat, eyes wild and anger radiating off of him in waves of heat that matched my own anger at the situation.

I stood up out of the chair suddenly, the legs scraping along the floor. How dare he say that? What the hell was his problem? "Don't say that! I've sacrificed a lot already! I'm not stupid--I know this isn't a game! And how dare you even say that? You say you know what it was like for me? Well then show some bloody sympathy! You heartless git!"

He stood up and glared at me from across his desk. Hatred was burning through me like it had burned through me when the Dark Lord had given me the Dark Mark. Hot tears were starting to pool underneath my lids. I longed to die; I longed to burn him with my gaze. I could feel the edginess running through me like warm electricity, like an energy in my chest wanting to explode.

"You cannot afford to be weak, Danielle! I have tried to be sympathetic. Do you realize that if any other student had avoided my classes, that I would not have been so kind as to let them? Do you even remember our schedule for extra Defence classes? Did I once come to you and demand you show? And how do you repay me? By becoming an insolent dunderhead. You wanted this--Dumbledore gave you a choice, and I warned you after Diggory died! This pain is real, I understand that, but to insinuate that I have not felt this is an insult--I will not tolerate it, not even from you!"

"You know what? Sod this! I'm going to go shack up with Sirius! I can't deal with this! I'm not strong like you are! Or at least, not as heartless as you!"

He clenched his teeth together. "Is that what you want, then? To go into hiding?"

I lifted my head up haughtily. I wanted nothing more than to hate the man yelling at me, but I couldn't, and I couldn't help but feel depressed at what he was saying, and knowing damn well that he was right, and that I was being selfish for taking my pain out on everyone. But I would be damned before admitting it. "Maybe that is what I want," I said, knowing my bottom lip was trembling as a cold hand squeezed my heart and filled my body with regret that I'd even spoken.

Snape strode around his desk and grabbed my arm, starting to lead me to the door. "Go live with Black, then! Live the life of a coward!"

I pulled my arm out of his grasp and glared up at him. How dare he call me coward! As if this was easy for me! He should know that more than anyone! "Oh, right, because you pining over a girl and never telling her how you felt was brave, and actually falling for the Dark Lord's lies, yeah, that's brave, too! You're the coward."

He towered over me, face turning a nasty brick colour, black eyes gleaming furiously. "I am not a coward!"

I leaned forward, the energy between sparking and burning as hot as the red of my hair. "You are so!"

"You immature, petulant little girl! I am _not_ a coward!" he yelled, flecks of spit hitting my face, face red with rage and his fists clenched into fists at his sides.

"Prove it then!" I shouted, the tension around us thick and hot with our animosity.

"I will!" he promised, then grabbed me by the front of my robes, and pulled me into a crushing kiss.

* * *

A/N--Sorry for the wait. I did have fun at my mum's, and started writing a parody, but don't worry, I will keep up on this story as much as always. Thank you very much for being so supportive of my fic, those who have kept reading this. Hopefully my talents have become better. My brother wants to hear the story, but since he hasn't read HBP or DH (he has dyslexia) then I can't really read this to him until I finish reading the books to him. Anyway, thanks for all the good reviews, and thanks for all the constructive criticism as well!


	23. Chapter 26

Chapter 26: Shame

It was very awkward, the way his mouth was pressed against mine, and for a moment I was paralyzed. Then I realized that Snape was _kissing_ me.

I closed my eyes and gave into the temptation, responding with just as much ferocity, moaning slightly and flicking my tongue against his bottom lip. He opened his mouth and I thrust my tongue forward, and he moaned a low, almost inaudible moan, wrapping his arms around my back and pulling me closer, kissing me hard, our tongues battling for dominance.

How had this happened? How had we started kissing? We had been arguing, and I'd called him a coward, because he'd said I didn't deserve to resemble Lily . . .

My eyes snapped open at the memory while he attacked my mouth passionately. I suddenly pushed away from him, slamming my hands against his chest and staggering back, suddenly feeling dazed although I was angry once more.

"What . . . What was that?" I asked through my heavy breaths.

He stood in front of me, jaw suddenly clenched and face paling even more so than usual. He was standing rigidly straight, and his chest was moving quickly with rapid breath, which he seemed to be breathing through his nose.

"Why did you do that?" I demanded, body shaking and knees weak.

He blinked a few times, lips pursed. "I am not a coward," he stated.

"You kissed me to prove that?" I snapped. "You're such a git!"

"You responded," he pointed out.

I drew in several quick, shaky breaths. "Yeah, but--you know that I have--you knew I would!"

Snape didn't reply.

"I'm going back to the common room!" I turned on my heel and went to leave his office.

He grabbed my arm and forced my to look at him. "Aren't you going to Grimmauld Place? Haven't you decided to become like the cowardly Black and lounge about in luxury?" he sneered coldly.

"Oh, and what, like you want me to stay here? Since I'm so undeserving of Lily's face?"

"Don't you realize that you acting this way could not only ruin your cover, but mine? Your behaviour is only going to jeopardize this war! Had you any sympathy or logic at all, you would have realized that while, yes, depression is an _obvious_ reaction to what you've been through, you cannot afford to be weak! Those who wear their hearts on their sleeves will prove fools, and you will have no chance, do you understand me? No chance at all in this war, no chance at surviving! If this continues, you will _have_ to go into hiding, simply because you jeopardize everything the Order is working for with your attitude!"

I pulled my arm out of his grasp and clenched my teeth, trying to think of some clever retort. Everything seemed to boil inside of me, my feelings for him peaking because we had kissed, and the anger burning just as hot. I didn't think I could want someone and be mad at the same time.

"You--You son of a--I'm not jeopardizing anything!" I sputtered, leaning back slightly because he was leaning over me, and it was really intimidating.

"You know that you are."

I opened my mouth to contradict him, but then nothing came out, and I shut my mouth.

"Now, are you going to cease your attitude?"

I scoffed, sneering at him. I went towards the door and opened the door. He came up behind me, put his hand on the door, and forced it shut. I tried to tug it open, but he was stronger than me, and it barely jiggled, since he kept his hand on the door. I was forcibly reminded of when we were in his personal stores and the Head Boy and Girl had been outside of it.

"Look at me, Danielle," he ordered calmly.

I slowly turned around so that my back was against the door. I glared at him.

"Are you going to cease this attitude?" he asked with a slight edge to his tone. I kept my mouth stubbornly shut. "If you do not, you will be forced to go into hiding, whether or not you want to. Once you go into hiding, you cannot come out, for we will be forced to fake your death. If you wish to continue being a spy, then this behaviour must end. I cannot allow it to continue, for it may result in your actual death, and possibly blow my cover."

I took in a deep breath, knowing I should feel so turned on at the moment since I was angry. The way his voice sounded was seductive, and I couldn't stop remembering the feel of his lips against mine, and my tongue in his mouth, or how his arms wrapped around me and the low moan of his voice . . . Yet I wanted nothing more than to smack him for talking to me this way, even if he was right. I hated him for saying I didn't deserve looking like Lily, even if I had always felt that way and I knew he was right.

He leaned closer, teeth clenched, lips curled into a snarl. "Answer the question." He spoke through clenched teeth.

"Fine. I'll stop acting like this, okay?" I also spoke through clenched teeth.

He stared deep into my eyes and knew what he was doing. I didn't care, though--I always left my mind open for him. I found my eyes flicking from his eyes to his mouth. Even though I had answered his question, his hand still remained on the door, preventing me from leaving. I wanted to kiss him again, but I knew that it probably wouldn't be a good idea since I was angry at him. Damn him for saying that about Lily.

"I will expect you to return to your classes, and for you to show at my office after dinner for our extra Defence lessons, on Monday."

"Fine. Can I go now?"

He regarded me intensely, then he removed his hand from the door, although he remained just as close to me as before. "You may."

Even though he had removed his hand, I still stayed facing him. I glanced at his mouth, feeling the want and anger boil hotter in my gut. I leaned up, mouth inches from his, wanting to taste him, but then I stopped and inch away. My eye slid away from his mouth and to his intense eyes. They were unwavering. He wasn't pushing me away, but he wasn't leaning in either. I wanted him to lean in.

"I hate you," I ground out through my clenched teeth, then spun around on my heel and left his office. I slammed teh door shut behidn me, trying hard to ignore the guilt that immediately followed.

* * *

When I woke up around noon the next morning, I realized I was not alone like I normally was. I heard shuffling around, and a someone (obviously male) talk quietly to someone else, as if he was afraid to wake me up. Obviously this made little sense to me, since boys weren't allowed in the girls' dormitory.

I opened my eyes and sat up slowly, looking for the source of the voice. I saw Draco standing in front of my snake cage and talking to it.

"How the hell did you get up here?" I demanded.

Draco turned around, and I noticed that he was holding a very small mouse by its tail. It was scrabbling around and making a small squeaking noise. He glanced between me and the mouse a few times, then sighed. "Well, since you haven't been _yourself_ lately, someone had to feed it. You missed the hunting stance last time too--it was actually our third day of classes, and I thought you'd feed it, but you didn't. Pansy told me you weren't taking care of your snake, 'cause she heard about it from Jasmine, and so I decided to take matters into my own hands."

I slid out of my bed and slowly walked over to my cage. Considering the fact I'd been so happy to get it for my birthday, I had forgotten about my snake. My depression had become so strong I had forgotten about my own pet, and he could have died without my taking care of him.

I stared into the cage, noticing that my snake was slithering up the sides of it, his tongue flicking out against the wire mesh top. Draco was holding the mouse above it. The mouse was so tiny, it couldn't have been very old . . .

"I read your book. It says you need to hold it a lot, so that it'll get used to your scent. I've been sneaking in here, putting on your perfume--it's jasmine scented, right?--and putting on a pair of your winter gloves so it thinks it's you while I hold it. I'm not wearing it now, though, because I don't want it confusing your scent with the mouse's so it doesn't bite you."

I looked at Draco as he opened the top of the cage with his free hand, and dropped in the mouse. My snake--who I had yet to name--was slithering out of the top, so Draco calmly picked it up and put it back in the cage before replacing the lid. He had a completely calm face on, except for his pale eyebrows were knitted closely together.

I hadn't known he was taking care of my nameless snake. I had been so rude to him, and he'd be doing something so kind for me.

My snake grabbed the tiny mouse's head with its mouth and seemed to coil around it, suffocating the mouse while its mouth held it steady. My snake wasn't very large, only about a foot and a half still, so it made sense that the mouse would be quite small.

"When they're this age, I think they're only fed once every two weeks, and then after that, about once a month, but you really should pay attention to how it slithers. When it's hunting is when it's hungry. Er, it said that they had frozen dead mice and rats with vitamins shot inside of it if watching an animal die bothers you."

We stood next to each other and watched as the snake continued to smother the mouse, and then after it finished doing that, it slowly began to work its dead body down its throat. Its muscles in its jaw and in its whole body worked and rippled. It was like coiled power.

"Thank you, Draco."

"And you're lucky I even did this for you. I could've let it die, you know," he snapped, glaring at me briefly. "Did you even name it?"

I shook my head. "No. I'll think about it, though." I could tell from his expression that he was still angry with me. I didn't know why he would do this for me, especially since I'd treated him horribly, but I was really grateful. "I really mean it, Draco--thanks. It was really kind of you. I haven't been myself lately," I murmured quietly, looking down at my feet. I was ashamed. I had treated everyone so poorly and they'd all tried to be nice to me.

"The power of killing your mum got to your head." Even though it wasn't the power that got to me, he was half right. "It happens to the best of us, I guess. But don't do it again, because I might not be so kind the next time, all right? When you are put in a position of power, you've got to handle it well, or things turn on you. I might not be the best example--well, no, actually, I probably am." He smirked smugly at me and raised his eyebrows.

I doubted Draco really was that great of a person, but considering the fact he'd just taken care of my snake, I decided not to contradict him.

"You know, none of these idiots really care about me. Well, Pansy loves me, but I'm not considering her an idiot. I'm talking about the others. They follow me around because of who I am. I'm not stupid. They think I am, they think I don't get it, but I do. I keep them around because it makes me feel powerful, so I get why it went to your head. They're my friends, and I'd stick up for them and help them out if they ever needed it, but I'm not _their_ friend, do you know what I mean?" I nodded, understanding entirely. Everybody knew why Crabbe and Goyle and Nott and, well, others, followed Draco. "But you told me I was your best friend, and I believed you. That's why I did this. I think that you really do like me. We really are friends--real friends, like I am with Pansy--only without all that romantic stuff. But you treat me that way again, you let the power go to your head again, and we'll have a problem."

I nodded a few times. "I'm sorry. I guess . . . killing changes you . . ." He nodded in agreement. "But how did you get up here? Boys can't come in the girls' dormitory."

"Pansy floated me up."

"Oh . . . That's clever."

"Yeah, it was my idea. I'm just talented like that." With that, he turned and swept out of the dormitory with that confident swagger. I don't' know what it was, but he really reminded me of Sirius at time. They were second cousins, so I guess it probably came from that. Still, the arrogance, the charm . . . Sirius had it too. Only Sirius wasn't a Death Eater; he was one of the good guys.

For some reason, I couldn't really picture Draco as one of the bad guys.

* * *

"I don't see why you wanted to change your hair so badly," Pansy said later that night, while I finished rinsing the potion out of my hair. We were in the loo, washing my hair out in the sink. I watched as the murky brown water went down the drain, my neck sore from the uncomfortable position my head was in, since I was leaning over the sink.

"I was just bored of red," I said loud enough so she could hear me over the faucet running. I stuck my hands into my hair and ran my fingers through my wet strands.

"I don't see why, though. Red is such a vibrant colour. I wish I had red hair."

I loved my red hair. It made me stand out. Even if I didn't have friends, people noticed me because of my hair. I hadn't realized just how much I loved my hair until I'd cut it to my shoulders and decided to dye it. Normally I would have just used the muggle product, but I guess the potion made it look more natural and lasted longer.

"Yeah, well, I got bored of it." When I saw that the water was mostly clear, I turned off the sink and applied a drying charm to my hair. I wasn't used to it being so short, since it usually went a little past my shoulder blades It dried quickly, then I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror.

I looked like a little girl, with my round head and button nose, not to mention the shoulder-length dark brunette hair. I'd changed my eye colour, too, using a glamour spell I'd found in one of my school books. I'd practiced several times on random things in the dormitory before trying it on my eyes, since Snape had told me he'd gone blind for a week because of a glamour. I'd practiced for at least an hour. I couldn't' change the vividness, but I could change the colour. I'd changed it to a dark blue. The vivid dark blue was different than the green eyes, and I found I loved my original irises as well as my original hair, but this was necessary. I couldn't look at myself in the mirror and see her anymore. I was too disgusted with myself . . . Even Snape had told me I didn't deserve it . . .

I turned to face her, since my hair was now dried, and I flashed a brief smile. "Well? How do I look?"

Pansy looked me over, then shrugged. "Fine, I guess. Different."

I shifted my weight onto my other foot. "I was going for different."

"I don't see why you wanted to, but you succeeded."

Of course she didn't understand. Nobody would understand, except for maybe Snape. I wasn't stupid, and neither was he, so I knew he'd know why I'd changed my hair and eye colour.

"Good." Pansy folded her arms and nodded. "Thanks for putting the potion in my hair."

She let out a sigh and rolled her eyes. "If I'd said no, I never would've heard the end of it from Draco."

"Er, Pansy . . . You know that Draco and I are just friends, right? You don't have any reason to think that I like him . . . or that he likes me. We're just friends."

She scoffed and unfolded her arms, giving me a look I didn't really like. "Yeah, for now."

"He's with you, Pansy. He loves you--he's told me. You have nothing to worry about." Pansy seemed to consider what I'd said for a long while, then nodded to herself a few times. "I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise," I added quietly.

She shook her head. "It' not you; it's him."

"Well you know how guys are. They don't get us at all. Trust me, if he'd wanted me, he would have asked me out. He asked you. Draco knows what--or who--he wants, and then he gets it."

Pansy seemed satisfied with what I'd said, and then she left.

I looked at myself in the mirror a few times, fingering a strand of my new hair. I missed my old face, but I knew I would. After a few minutes of me smiling at myself in the mirror, and practicing flipping my bangs out of my face, so I could get used to my new look, I decided that to stay and look much longer would be conceited, and so I left the bathroom, shutting the door behind me.

I wandered the hall for a bit, used to feeling more weight on my head from my hair being longer, but it wasn't too bothersome. I wanted to see Snape, to show him that I'd changed, but I didn't' want to go to his office and make it too obvious, so I wandered around near the dungeons, just waiting for him to walk by. I shouldn't be to hard for us to eventually cross paths--he had to walk around the dungeon at some point.

After awhile of me wandering, smiling at a few students who passed, I saw Snape coming towards me in the hall (finally) and I smiled and nodded at him in greeting. My breath hitched in nervousness. "Hey, Professor," I said.

He looked at me as if I had done something extremely strange. One eyebrow moved upwards and his black eyes moved over my body quickly, like how a person looked at someone else he wasn't particularly fond of. He was confused for some reason. He walked on by without even nodding or saying anything in return, which I found strange.

I turned to watch him walk off, wondering if his attitude had been derived from yesterday's little talk. A few feet away, he stopped abruptly. For a few seconds he didn't move, then he turned back around and stared at me from the small distance. I could feel his gaze move all over me and I smiled nervously, not knowing if he was angry still.

In a second, he had closed the distance between us, still staring at me with puzzlement. "Danielle?" I smiled at him and nodded. "What . . . What is this?"

"I changed my hair . . . and my eyes."

He gave me a look-over. "So it would seem." He regarded me for a few more seconds, then turned around to walk off.

"Professor?" He stopped walking, but he did not turn, so I had to talk to his back. "I'm very sorry about yesterday. You were right."

He remained still for a moment, then he walked away.

And I didn't feel any better than I had.

* * *

A/N--Sorry about making her a bitch in the previous chapter, but, well, have you ever been around someone who has been having a seriously bad time? Let's face us, none of us are exactly at our best when depressed. Some get bitchy and others get reclusive, some are a mixture of both. And we all know by now that Danielle has anger problems and a hard time showing respect, so it seemed like a logical response. If it makes you feel better, I didn't really like her last chapter, either.


	24. Chapter 27

Chapter 27: Prince's Help

Monday, after dinner, I stood in front of Snape's office door. I hadn't knocked yet. For some reason I felt too nervous.

A few people had commented on my hair, all of them Slytherin, and I had received a few dirty look from the students of other houses. I don't know why they'd looked at me like I had somehow betrayed them. Maybe they didn't recognize me, or maybe they didn't like my hair. It wouldn't surprise me--even though the comments from the Slytherins were positive, and I could that they liked my other hair better. In fact, most of them asked why I had changed my hair, then tried to retract what they'd said by saying it looked nice. A few people mentioned my dark blue eyes, too.

Admittedly, I was nervous to meet Snape partly because I had changed my look, but he'd already seen it. I was mostly nervous because of our previous, ah, meeting, in which we argued, kissed because he wanted to prove he wasn't a coward, and I'd concluded it with me saying I hated him. That was what I was nervous about. I didn't know if we were 'together' because we'd kissed, or if it was a one-time thing. Did kissing last time make us a couple?

Taking in a deep breath, I knocked on the door, tucking my dark brunette hair behind my ear. It felt weird behind my ear, so I shook my head to remove it. I'd actually tried to look my best. I'd even put some makeup on--only a little, though, I didn't want to make it too obvious, did I?

He opened the door, which I found a little strange since he usually told me to come in. He stood in the doorframe and looked at me like he'd never seen me before. His brows were together. He looked me over, black eyes taking in every detail.

He didn't say anything. He just opened the door wider and stepped aside, allowing me access into his office. I brushed past him and went over to the chair he had in front of his desk and sat. He shut the door and then went behind his desk, sitting there. We looked at each other; both of us remained silent.

"I know you don't hate me," he finally said, keeping eye contact. I nodded briefly and barely. I didn't hate him. "It hurt when you said it, nonetheless."

"I wasn't myself," I explained quietly, looking at my knees, the shame making my eyes blur with unshed tears.

"We both said . . . things we didn't mean," he admitted, in a just-as-quiet voice.

I looked back at him, meeting his eyes. He had a very serious expression on his face while he looked at me, and I thought of our kiss. Was he going to mention it? "We . . . _did_ things we didn't mean."

He knew what I was talking about. He knew I was talking about him kissing me. I had assumed he didn't mean it, because it was in the middle of an argument after I had called him a coward.

"Danielle . . ." I waited for him to finish what he was saying, but it became clear to me after a few seconds of silence that he wasn't going to finish. "We should start our lessons."

I wanted to discuss our kiss, not start my extra lessons, but I was sure that if he didn't want to talk about it then we wouldn't, no matter how hard I pushed the issue. "Yeah, you're right. We should start the lessons."

* * *

Quidditch bored me. I could never fly on a broom properly and watching others who could fly throw balls wasn't exactly my idea of a good time. I hadn't been to a Quidditch match since my fourth year, when it had been raining heavily and those dementors had attacked me. I preferred to have the common room to myself for once. 

I had my cage down in the common room while I sat on the floor, holding my snake. I'd named him (or her, I didn't know how to tell the gender) Prince. I'd really wanted to name him Severus, but that would've been a bit embarrassing if someone asked the name, and I didn't really like to flaunt the fact I had a crush on my professor. I got the name Prince because that was his mother's maiden name--he'd told me once during Occlumency.

I watched as Prince curled around my fingers, muscles rippling along my skin as it moved. Prince had shining black eyes, which is why I wanted to name him Severus. His underbelly was pale, almost white, but his scales were a dark brown--almost black--colour with golden tan spots all across it. I saw the muscles ripple, the light from the fire travelling across his scales.

I had fed him twice already, watching as he fed, for some reason paranoid he was going to choke or suffocate, although I knew he wouldn't. I knew that paranoia came from the guilt of forgetting about him and that it would eventually wane. Judging by the way he was moving, he was going into his hunting phase, and I figured I would feed him tomorrow. He'd grown a little, but I wasn't sure he was ready for the bigger mice, so I was planning on taking him into the pet store with me.

I could feel the power, the strength, while he slithered across my palm and tightened around a few of my fingers. I watched, completely fascinated, while he moved. Ever since the day I caught Draco taking care of Prince, I had felt so guilty for forgetting about him that I had held him at least once a day. I liked the feel of his scales sliding across my flesh. Prince took to me very well, and I knew I had Draco to thank for that--he had put on my gloves and sprayed my perfume on before holding him. He must've been very confident about his sexuality if he was spraying himself with my perfume.

I felt somewhat guilty for not going to Draco's Quidditch match, now that I thought about what he'd done for me. Draco and I were back to our normal friendship, and his dad, as promised, had given me my monthly allowance. I'd gotten it from an owl and I put in my vault that Saturday. Draco promised that this weekend he was going to come with me to my house, pack up my things, and help me move out. I was going to put my boxes in my vault as well, until I found some place to move into. Draco said that Lucius had told him I could have the west wing of his manor to myself, but I'd declined.

I hadn't declined because I disliked Draco; I'd declined because of Pansy. For about a week after she dyed my hair with that potion, we had started a tentative friendship--or so I had thought. I overheard her telling Millicent Bulstrode that the only reason she even helped me change my hair colour was because Draco wouldn't have liked her saying no, and because she wanted me to look uglier. Then she said she was only trying to be my friend so she could get in with the Dark Lord, and keep an eye on me because she knew I was trying to steal her boyfriend. I didn't want anybody going to the Dark Lord if I prevented it, and so I decided to stop trying to be friends with her. Also, I didn't want to give her any more of a reason to think I was trying to steal Draco.

Plus, she was a bitch.

When the portrait door swung open, I expected it to be a crowd of Slytherins complaining that Gryffindor had won, again, like they always did. I looked up, surprised to see Snape. We didn't have a class today, so I didn't know why he was here.

"Hey, Professor," I called, sitting up straighter on the comfy couch, wiggling my fingers while Prince wrapped around my palm.

Snape stood where he was at for a moment, the green light of the common room smoothing his hard features as it fell across him. "Danielle," he greeted.

Professor Snape had been acting strangely since the night he kissed me. Well, I suppose not strangely--he was acting like his normal self. Which, around me, was strange. I hadn't realized exactly how close we had been until we stopped being close. He seemed to be distancing himself from me--we didn't have any conversations unless they were related to our extra lessons in Defence Against the Dark Arts.

It was actually convenient that I had those extra lessons, because Umbridge proved to be the worst teacher we ever had. She was even worse than Lockhart, who obviously hadn't known what he was talking about . . . But at least he had the looks to compensate. At least he had those books that explained how he had dealt with beasts, and those seemed to be accurate enough. I wondered why he was such a bad teacher when he had done all of those amazing tasks, but I figured that teaching wasn't his forte. I suppose no one would ever know why he was a bad teacher and a good doer, because last I heard, he was in St. Mungo's. Umbridge, on the other hand, gave up a pathetic textbook that may as well have been a pop-up book for kids, since it was all extremely basic and obvious. I felt bad for the rest of the students who didn't have extra lessons, because at least I was learning something.

Snape still treated me differently. He no longer touched me. I hadn't' realized just how much we touched until that stopped happening. He used to always brush my hair from my face, or put his hand on my shoulder. I remembered he put his hand on my knee once, on my birthday. He used to always get close, too, like he was right in my personal space, invading my bubble--but I rather liked it when he did. He now seemed to stay at a respectful distance, almost obsessively so. If I got too close in class, he would shift his weight onto his other foot as a pretence, but I knew he was just sneakily stepping away from me.

I wondered if it was because he felt guilty for kissing me, or if it was because he no longer had interest in me because I didn't look like Lily. I didn't ever want to find out, because I didn't know if I could handle it if I found out it was because I didn't look like his beloved anymore.

I noticed he looked at me still. While in class, he would occasionally meet my eyes and it was like he was speaking directly to me. At least that hadn't changed--he always looked at me with his normal intensity. At least now I knew he was looking at me and not her.

Sometimes I wished I still looked at her, because then we could still be close, and perhaps we would have gotten closer, even if I knew it wasn't me he wanted. Then, at the same time, I was glad it had stopped, because now he was looking at me as me.

"Shouldn't you be at the Quidditch match?" I asked, tearing my gaze from him to look at Prince.

"I saw that you hadn't attended, and I absented myself."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Why?"

"I thought . . . that being with you would be . . . more worthwhile than watching Potter kick off the ground and catch a Snitch despite the weight of his unnaturally large head." He had his hands behind his back and his shifted his weight onto his other foot, keeping his eyes on mine.

I smiled, feeling pleasantly warm and giddy. "Oh . . . well, I hope you're right." I indicated the cushion beside me and almost chuckled when Prince slithered across my wrist, which tickled.

He strode across the common room and sat on the couch beside me. The red light of the fire flickered on his face and along his back robes. His foot nudged the cage and he looked at it in confusion before glancing at me.

"You're progressing very well in our lessons," he stated. He was sitting rather close to me. Our knees were touching. We were sitting in front of a fire. Though it was horribly cliché, I liked it anyway.

"Well, that's just because I have a great teacher." He gave me a thin-lipped smile.

I used my free hand to pet Prince. My index finger stroked his spine. I noticed Snape watched me. "And how is you snake faring?"

"Very well. His name is Prince, like your mother's last name." Snape cocked his head to the side. "His eyes are black, like yours. I couldn't name him Severus, could I?"

He seemed taken aback. He reeled a bit and took in a slightly louder-than-usual breath.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, continuing to stroke Prince with my index finger.

"I've never heard you say my name before."

It seemed odd to me that I hadn't ever said his first name, although he usually said mine. Realizing that I had said his name, it felt strange. I felt like I had somehow offended him; disrespected him.

"Oh, well I didn't mean to . . . I'm sorry, Professor."

He leaned forward and shook his head, resting his hand on my thigh. I turned to look at him. He was sitting with his back against the arm of the chair, one knee bent so that it could rest on the couch as well. He somehow managed to make it look impressive. His hand was further up my leg than anyone had ever put it, but it was still in a respectful distance from anything he shouldn't be touching.

"You may call me Severus, Danielle. Of course, not when anybody can hear you . . . however, in a personal setting . . ." He looked over my face in a way he hadn't looked at me since I'd changed my hair and eyes.

I tried to say something, but it came out as a small little moan. He had rendered me speechless, just by asking me to say his name, and putting his hand on my thigh. We were alone, in front of a fire. We'd been alone plenty of times before, but for some reason this felt different.

I gazed at him and he gazed right back. I felt his thumb brush along my thigh and I bit my lip, feeling warm and wanting to take the plunge and kiss him.

His eyes flicked to my mouth. As soon as I realized where he was looking, he quickly looked at my snake. "May I?" he inquired, reaching hesitantly towards the snake, with the hand that wasn't on my leg.

"Yeah," I murmured, barely audible to my own ears.

I moved my hand towards his. Prince started slithering out of my hand tentatively, then moved across his palm. I was going to let him move out of my hand entirely, but he kept his tail wrapped around my ring finger and started winding around his wrist, pulling our hands closer. I could have pulled my hand away; the snake wasn't that strong. But I didn't want to, and neither did Snape--Severus--apparently. I watched as the snake wound around both of our hands, through our fingers. Our palms were touching, and it seemed to shoot sparks up my whole arm.

If anybody ever asked, I would swear that the snake forced our fingers to entwine because it tightened its muscles. Of course, that wasn't necessarily true, because I gathered up the courage to do it myself. His hands was warm, and the snake was cool, wrapping around entwined hand. I was afraid to look at him, my heart throbbing rapidly, my breath shaking and hitching. Chills ran up my spine and along my skin. We were holding hands.

"I have . . . been unfair to you."

I finally forced my eyes to leave the snake and go to him. His head was bowed slightly, so that his black hair fell in front of his eyes. I reached forward and pushed his bangs away, not caring that his hair felt slightly greasy against my fingertips. One side of him mouth lifted.

"How do you mean?" I breathed. For some reason I was being quiet although no one else was around.

"I have been . . . distancing myself from you. Surely you noticed?"

I nodded, scooting closer, feeling his hand squeeze my thigh gently when I did so. "Yeah . . . I figured it was because I . . . I didn't look like her anymore."

His black eyes looked away from mine for a second, glancing at our hands, at the snake that was still moving about our knuckles and flicking its tongue.

"Partly," he admitted. The pleasant feeling that had been steadily growing in my stomach region seemed to grow cold instantly. "I . . . I thought that . . ." He seemed to be at a loss for words, almost like he was nervous. He let out a long breath and closed his eyes for a long second. "What I said to you, saying you didn't deserve to look like her . . . I was lying. I felt . . . ashamed about what I said. You changed because of my words--what I said to you hurt, didn't it? Hurt so much you couldn't look at yourself. I've felt that pain--not wanting to look at myself--and the fact I forced you to feel likewise . . . I don't deserve your affections, and so I . . . stayed away."

I smiled at him and brushed his hair away from his face again. My hand was shaking slightly, and I wondered if he'd noticed.

"You deserve it, Severus." I put a slight emphasis on his name. He smiled briefly, but only a little. "And what you said . . . you were right."

"No, I wasn't," he said, voice barely above a whisper. "If anyone deserves her resemblance, it's you. I have never hated you, or trult believed what I said, despite what you may believe. I hate Potter because he does not _deserve_ his mother's eyes, and each time I look into them . . . Do you think you've been the first person to remind me of her? Granted, you're the first who resembles her to this extent, considering your relation."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded.

"Danielle . . . When you changed your appearance, I was still--" He cut off, like he'd been about to say a curse word in front of a child. "I thought that I would . . . no longer think of you if you did not resemble her. That my . . . thinking of you was inappropriate, and that it only came from your resemblance, but, since you have changed . . ."

A part of me took this as an admission of feelings on his part, but the other part of me was saying it couldn't be true, that he didn't feel for me. I didn't want to get my hopes up, but what else could he be implying?

He let out a long breath and closed his eyes again. "Your mother referred to me as a lecher, and I . . . don't want you to view me as such . . ."

"Hey," I said, trying to be reassuring. I put my hand on the side of his arm and squeezed slightly. His fingers stroked my thigh slightly when I did that and he opened his eyes, staring at me intensely. "You're not a pervert."

He removed his hand from my thigh and I felt let down, until he brushed away my dark hair from my eyes, then held the side of my face. "Danielle . . . I . . ."

The portrait opened. I wanted to charge down the person who came in and beat him. I looked up and saw Draco, holding his face while he strode in. "It's Draco," I said, casually lifting Prince off of Snape's hand, though I spoke through clenched teeth. There was no doubt in my mind that he'd been about to admit his feelings for me. Or at least that's what I imagined.

"I'm going to murder him," he growled as he stood off of the couch.

I put Prince back into his cage and put the top back on. I glanced behind the couch and watched as Snape walked out of the common room, apparently ignoring Draco. Draco was looking away from Snape, still holding his face. I wondered why Draco didn't want Snape looking at him, but at the moment, I didn't care.

When the portrait closed, Draco pulled his hand away, and I saw blood rushing down his chin.

"Draco! What happened?" I asked, no longer mad, but concerned.

He glanced at me and jumped a little, looking at his blood covered hands, then touching his mouth again. I noticed that his eyes were wet, and so was a small portion of his skin underneath his eyes. I didn't think he'd actually been crying, but his eyes just got wet from the pain.

"That stupid scarhead attacked me! Him and his stupid--stupid little red-headed--stupid bloody clones! Weasley! Blood traitor Weasley!"

"Ron?"

"No! The older one! There's two of 'em! Stupid prat!" Blood flecked from his mouth when he yelled, and he held his hand to his mouth again.

I tilted my head to the side. "Fred or George?"

"Like I bloody know!" He glared at me like I had somehow offended him. His whole mouth was red with blood. "I gotta go talk to Snape and probably McGonagall and Umbridge too!"

I sighed. "I've got some dittany in my room. I'll go grab some, and then we could fix you up." I pointed over to the couch, suddenly remembering my little moment with Snape, and I felt a twinge of anger for Draco interrupting us. "Go sit there and wait for me. I'll be back."

I hurriedly grabbed the dittany salve from the dormitory, the went back down. By the time I made it back down to the common room, it was full of people, all of them crowding around Draco. I noticed Pansy was hugging Draco and squealing as if she'd been the one who'd been punched. Draco was moaning in pain, clutching onto her while she vowed vengeance.

I noticed Draco smiled a bloody smile at Nott and winked. I walked over to the crowd and looked at Draco. He waggled his eyebrows at me and grinned, and I saw that the blood was crusting slightly, although some of it was still wet. I don't know why, but I chuckled and rolled my eyes. Leave it to Draco to take any situation and use it in his favour.

Pansy pulled away, and she had wet eyes and a red face. "I'm gonna make sure those idiots pay!" she promised.

I tossed the little bottle with the pink salve in it into his lap. Pansy was busy swearing she would pay them all back so she didn't notice Draco pocket the salve and nod his thanks to me.

I bent down and picked up my cage, which the crowd and avoided kicking, thank God. I hoisted the cage up while they all asked for Draco's account of the story. I was up in the dormitory so I didn't get to hear what he said, but I was sure that he'd changed it.

Why did Harry and Fred/George attack him? Couldn't they have waited a few seconds more? Or at least controlled their temper? Well, I guess I was the last person to talk about controlling tempers, but because of them, my moment had been ruined. Still, had Harry decided to keep his emotions in check, Draco wouldn't have interrupted Snape saying (what I hope) was his admission of his feelings for me.

I suddenly understood why Draco and Snape blamed Harry for stuff that wasn't really his fault. It felt good.

* * *

A/N--sorry it took so long for me to update. I got sick. Prince is based after my pet snake. My snake is named Severus (wonder where that name came from . . . can't think of where I heard it before . . .) and he actually did that whole forcing the hands together. Unfortuantely, my hand was against my dad's girlfriend's hand, and so our fingers did not entwine, because she's a bitch, but that's where I got the idea. 


	25. Chapter 28

Chapter 28: Mock

"I believe my apology is . . . needed," Snape (Severus) said the second I sat down in front of him.

"Huh?" I asked, caught a little off guard. Where had that come from? "Apologize for what?"

He started sifting through some papers on his desk, me knowing it was because he was uncomfortable. He'd told me he did stuff with his hands when he got uncomfortable. "It has become obvious at this point that I have feelings for you; even you cannot deny that."

Excitement and pleasure thrummed through me, and I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face. "Really?" I realized how enthusiastic I sounded, and felt a little stupid. "Uh . . . So, uh, I mean, er, why are you apologizing?"

"Because I cannot allow it."

He ripped out my heart.

"Why?" I demanded, automatically feeling my eyes prickle.

"Men of my age who are attracted to . . . teenagers are not well. There is a word for it--paedophilia."

. . . and crushed it with the heel of his boot.

"What? I'm hardly a child, Sn . . . Severus."

"You are sixteen, and younger than the age of consent, and I am your teacher--I hold power over you. Therefore, according to law, if anything were to happen . . . again . . . then it would be viewed as statutory rape. I thought perhaps my attraction came from you resembling Lily, and perhaps that's where it began, but now . . . Now it's obvious that I have feelings for you. Men who, ah, have relations with women of your age are not well."

"Since when the hell do you care what others think?" I snapped, folding my arms, knowing he could see my tears that burned my eyes and blurred my vision. Didn't he realize he was crushing my heart with each word he spoke? The dull ache in my chest intensified as the seconds grew longer.

"You don't love me, Danielle. You think you do, but you don't."

I stood up from my chair and glared at him. "That's rich, coming from you! Who are you to tell me someone my age doesn't know what love is? How old were you when you fell in love?"

He stood up and stared at me. I noticed that his eyes shone slightly with moistness, but not enough to be called teary. "Do you love me? Have you once said it? Have you once thought it? If you are in love with me, then tell me you are," he growled, but I noticed that he sounded somewhat desperate.

"I love you," I said. It felt like a confession of some sort. I had always thought saying it would make me feel wonderful; lift a burden off of my shoulders. Instead, it felt like something heavy was planted directly into my chest.

I stared into his eyes, and for the first time in my life, I knew exactly what he was feeling. Sadness. Apparently me loving him wasn't what he wanted.

"Danielle, this is . . . wrong."

"I don't care. If we both have feelings for each other, why the hell should it matter? Maybe you don't love me as much as I love you, but I don't care! It's me you feel for, right? So why the hell not? Do you think that I'd go around telling everybody that we're in a relationship?"

"Of course not! But it would be wrong of me! I have made too many mistakes in my life to add another!"

I shook my head and took in a shaky, harsh breath. "But--But . . . This is just stupid! I love you! Why should the age difference matter? It's not like I'm a little kid! It's not like I'm twelve! Dammit, I'll be of age next August! And--And that'll be my last year, we can keep it a secret 'til then!"

He just stared at me, mouth closed tightly.

"When did the feelings start, then? When did you have feelings for me and not her?"

"The night you . . . came to me in your underwear," he admitted slowly. I suddenly felt self-conscious, remembering with vivid clarity the night my clothes had been Vanished. I was fifteen then. It felt awkward, having him talk about it. "Not because I saw your body, Danielle, for something far less perverted than that," he said with a quirked eyebrow, somehow knowing exactly what I'd been thinking.

"Oh . . . Okay, good . . . 'cause that would be . . ." I wiped away my tears from my cheek and cleared my throat.

"You came to me . . . And you revealed to me just what had been bothering you, and you laughed. Not at me--but at something I said. You found me . . . humorous. You leaned up against me, and I meant to push you away, but when I touched you . . . I realized that I was touching _you,_ comforting _you._ It was a fleeting moment--one in which I realized that I now thought of you as a separate person, other than Lily. There wasn't any romantic attachment . . . Just the realization that I could think of you as something else, _care_ about someone else."

"You meant . . . That was the first time you didn't see her?" I asked, frowning slightly.

"No, that was the first time I cared about you. I saw you as someone other than Lily when you drew me, that night you had a detention with me on my birthday."

I blinked at him. "You haven't answered my question. When did you have feelings for _me_ and not Lily--romantic feelings?"

"I'm not quite sure . . . Either when I tried to return the picture of me and Lily--in the store room, I am sure you recall that day?" I nodded. Of course I did. He had practically pinned me against the door--accidentally, of course. The Head Boy and Girl had been snogging right outside of it. "Or Valentines Day. Of course, at the time, I tried to tell myself that it was always her . . . I felt guilty . . . I thought admitting it would force me to forgot my love of her." He swallowed, and I watched his Adam's apple bob while he did so. Apparently admitting that he felt guilt at the thought of forgetting her was hard. "But this is not the issue, Danielle, the issue is that we can never . . . I don't wish to give you false hopes."

"Then why mention anything at all?" I snapped, feeling the hot tears slide down my cheeks.

He looked away from me. "Danielle . . . Not only is this inappropriate, but . . . We are at war, despite that the ministry is trying to convince us otherwise."

"Yeah, you're right, and we can die at any moment. And maybe I don't want to die without ever knowing what it's like to be someone's girlfriend." He stared back at me, his face still stony, but I could tell that he wasn't happy. His eyes shimmered. I think I would've liked it better if he'd been ecstatic to get rid of me, if he'd been cruel and told me he couldn't stand me, because knowing that he was sad by having to tell me we couldn't be together was making it so much worse.

"As such, I have decided that our lessons shall be reduced to once a week--Friday should suffice. You don't need much teaching, since you have caught on quickly, but we must keep the lessons in order for you to improve. If we spend too much time alone together, I fear I might . . . become weak again."

I scoffed and screwed up my face to prevent myself from crying. "You're not weak, Severus, and neither is this. It's the strongest thing I've ever known, and you know it," I croaked, wanting him to know just how hard this was--just how strong my love for him was. And maybe this feeling would be nothing compared to how I felt years from now, maybe this was just the amount of love I could feel at my age and level of emotional maturity, but I knew it--I was in love with him.

He nodded slowly. "I know, Danielle . . . but giving in . . . would be wrong."

"You know, I think I want to leave now," I stated suddenly, knowing that if I stayed much longer then I would break into hysterics.

"Very well then. I shall see you next Friday," he said while he sat back down in his desk, looking away from me and at the papers. I noticed that his jaw was tight and his eyes glistened even more so than before.

I nodded, remembering that today was Friday, and I spun on my heel and stormed out of his office, so that I could cry in peace. I felt like there was a heavy weight in my chest, and I wondered if it would ever go away.

* * *

Perhaps it was because it had only been a day, but the horrible heavy emptiness still hadn't disappeared. I had wanted to tell Draco to forget it; that I didn't want to go to my house this weekend and pack. But I knew that I had to keep my facade up of being a happy worry-free Death Eater, and when I thought about it, I really wanted to get away from the school, so I went anyway.

"I told Pansy you were off on Death Eater stuff, and that I was coming along to learn the ways. If I told her we were spending the weekend at your house, she'd . . . well, you know, Draco said as he walked into my living room, dumping a bag of clothes and whatever else he packed on the couch. He put his hands on his hips and sneered. "God, I can't imagine living in this muggle pigsty. Clean, yeah, and obvious traces of magic, but . . . Still, living with a mudblood Can't imagine what that must've been like." He shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"I don't know, I guess it couldn't have been as bad as . . . Well, other things. Mum was a bit of a liar, though. She wasn't even a good one. You know, sometimes we'd talk about her being a mudblood and all of that, then other times she would swear up and down she was a pureblood, even though we'd talked about her being a mudblood. It was stupid. Like she couldn't even remember her lies." I shook my head, finding that I was a bit disappointed with her.

He scoffed. "Stupid. This is just the sort of place Arthur Weasley would like--he's got a fascination with muggles. His stupid bloody son decked me in the face, and then precious Potter hit me in the stomach. I hate the lot of them." He sneered at a lamp, as if it was its fault he'd been punched.

Knowing Draco, he'd probably deserved it (or at least egged it on) but I just nodded and made a sound to make it sound like I agreed with him. I remembered I'd blamed Harry for my private discussion with Severus being disturbed, but now that I know what he'd come to say, I found I wished that Harry had somehow interrupted yesterday's discussion as well.

"So what should we do first? Draco asked, turning to me with his grey eyes wide. "And I hope you have a big bed, because I'm not sleeping on the couch, the floor, or your mother's filthy bed, so we either share the bed, or you can get to sleep elsewhere." He smirked at me.

"Yeah, we can share the bed. I've shared it before," I informed. Remembering that I had shared it with Sna--Severus, I felt a twinge of sadness. Since I had decided I didn't want to think about him, I found that I thought about him even more . . . Or maybe the same amount, but it only bugged me because I was trying not to. Thinking about him made my chest hurt even more than it already did.

"Oh really? With who? I didn't know that you were with someone."

"I thought sleeping in the same bed wasn't sexual?" I aired with a smirk.

He brought himself to his full height and raised his eyebrows. "And I thought girls thought differently than boys on the matter?"

He scoffed and stepped closer to him, tossing my short hair over my shoulder. "Really? Then why would I share the same bed with you if I thought it was sexual?" I don't know why I bantered with Draco, because I knew he would always win.

He stepped right in front of me. "Well, _maybe_ it's because you want me."

"If that were the case, then I would be very disappointed in you coming here with me, since you have a girlfriend, and doing something sexual with another girl is wrong."

"And how would it be my fault if you took my _innocent_ actions and made them sexual, since guys think differently than girls?" he drawled, stepping even closer. When I couldn't think of anything to say for a few seconds he smirked. "See, I'm right, like always. So, which is it? Bed sharing or you getting the floor?"

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "When have I ever not shared a bed with you? Honestly, Draco."

"Well, I just wanted to make sure Snape was okay with it," he pointed out as he went to walk off.

I grabbed his arm and made him look at me, feeling both a rush of panic and annoyance. "Draco, I've told you like a thousand time, we're not--"

"What, you think I didn't see him with you on the couch, holding your hand? Please, Dani, I'm not stupid." He jerked his arm out of my grasp.

"That's not what--_I _held _his_ hand. He was there to tell me that I . . . that he knew I had feelings for him, and that he didn't feel the same way. All right? Happy? I have a crush on Snape, and he doesn't like me back."

Draco blinked a few times at me, shocked apparently. "Oh . . . Well . . . I don't know what his problem is, because if I were him and you were after me, I'd go for you in a heartbeat. I mean, look at him! And you're a nice girl and everything, so what's his problem?" I was surprised a bit at what Draco was saying. "Is it the age issue? Well, it shouldn't bug him, you're almost an adult anyway. Besides, Snape deserves to be happy. He's such an old grouse, you know?"

"Well . . . I guess, but he just . . . doesn't have feelings for me."

Draco scoffed. "Yeah, well, I guess for a pretty smart man, he's thick-headed. Or lying. Take your pick. If I weren't with Pansy, and if I wasn't completely in love with her, I might consider you. Even if you don't look as good with your new hair and eyes. Which, by the way, why did you change them? You must know you looked better before, right?"

I was stunned beyond words for a second or so. "Er . . . Well, I just got bored, I guess . . ." I rubbed the back of my head. It took a lot of patience, since I had to constantly redo the glamour on my eyes since the spell didn't last very long. People had to know I was dedicated to keeping my appearance different, but I didn't' want them to know why. "Do you really mean you'd go out with me?"

"Well, yeah, you're an interesting person. I like hanging around you."

"Even with my new ugliness?" I asked mockingly.

"I didn't say you were ugly, I said you were less pretty. Anyway, how shallow do you think I am? I love Pansy, for Merlin's sake," he pointed out with a slight scoff. I frowned at him, realizing he'd just called his girlfriend ugly. He blinked a few moments, apparently realizing it too. I felt a twinge of guilt somewhere in my chest to add to the ache that had been building there since Severus had told me we couldn't be together. "Yeah, I'd appreciate it if you didn't repeat that . . ."

"I won't. Obviously I understand, since Snape isn't much of a looker, either."

He chuckled and punched my arm in a friendly way. "You're right about that."

* * *

The weekend with Draco was actually . . . Well, I don't know what to call it. It was fun, of course--being around Draco when he wasn't around others was always fun, not that I hated being around him when others were or anything, he just seemed less . . . Well, he seemed different. Draco was always blunt and never really showed much pity for anything, but he didn't joke around as much when others were around. I knew why, of course--if he showed any sign of weakness or humanity, really, then the other Slytherins would jump on him like angry hounds and try to steal his position of leadership. Or at least that's what he thought. Whether or not it was true I didn't know, but I knew that's where it came from.

Even though we'd been packing most of the weekend (using muggle means, of course, because neither of us was allowed to do magic outside of school, and I was in a muggle neighbourhood with my mum dead, so the Ministry would assume I was performing magic--much to Draco's chagrin because he was used to using magic at his house) I still managed to enjoy it. I enjoyed having dinner (who knew I could cook? And who knew Draco liked to cook as well?) with him, and taking a break and walking with him to the park, even if he complained about the state of the neighbourhood. I enjoyed lying in bed beside him, both of us talking until we fell asleep, with me eventually waking up with him curled against me, drooling on my chest, and me feeling awkward because he was in his expensive boxers and I was in my long silky nightdress, even if it was a modest night dress.

Still, the whole time we were at comfortable ease with each other, finishing each other's sentences, eating together, walking together . . . standing close together, play-flirting, or just sitting in silence . . . It was like a mock-marriage .For some reason, I kept thinking that this would be what life would be like if we were married, and that made my chest ache even more, because I knew that I would never experience that.

Not that I wanted that with Draco. Of course not. Draco would (or already did) experience that with Pansy.

No, I wanted it with Severus. Of course, we had experienced it during our lessons and detentions together, but I hadn't ever really thought about it until I experienced it with someone else and knew I wouldn't experience it with the one I wanted.

At time I found myself thinking about how my name would sound with the last name of Snape. Danielle Lily Snape . . .

Why hadn't I ever pieced together I was related to Lily if my middle name was Lily? That was quite stupid of me, wasn't it? Obviously my father had given me my middle name . . .

I imagined introducing myself, saying that I was Danielle Snape, and that he was my husband . . .

I wondered what our children would look like . . .

I would get lost in my thoughts of imagining married life with Severus, and how we would live at Spinner's End, and we would pick off the food the other didn't like off of the other's plate, or how we would walk to a park nearby, or sit in silence, or lie in bed talking until we fell asleep . . .

Draco would notice my faraway look and ask what was wrong, and I would always say I was just tired, and whether or not he believed me, he just went with it. This mock-marriage with Draco was fun, because we were friends, but I wanted it to be with Snape, and so it sort of cast a shadow over me.

It was bittersweet, I suppose. The weekend, I mean, not the friendship, and not the thing with Severus.

Then a horrible thought would always strike me, a thought so horrible it made me want to vomit, because it churned my stomach with fear. What if I never got to experience it, ever? People would tell me that I would eventually get over him . . . But I would always remember _him_ and he had never gotten over Lily. Even if he had feelings for me, I knew she would always be in his heart, and he would love her more than me. What if that was me? What if I never got over him, and I spent the rest of my days . . .

No, because he _did_ feel the same, and if all was the same after I graduated, then we could be together. That is, if we were both alive . . .

And then another horrible thought would enter my head--we were at war, and we were both in a highly dangerous position. What if one of us died?

No, I refused to think too long on either of those horrid thoughts.

Then I would immerse myself in the moments with Draco. It was like a drug--for those two days, I had something that could take my mind off of the dull ache in my chest and the constant prickle in my eyes. It was only the weekend right after he had rejected me, so I understood why the pain was so intense, but I hated it, and I didn't want to fall into one of my depressions again . . . So I would temporarily forget my upsetting situation by hanging out with Draco while we packed and cleaned.

"I think we got everything. Most of it is already at Gringott's right? That last Floo trip should've done it," Draco stated, looking around my completely bare house. It looked larger, but for some reason, I felt more confined . . . like I was in a large prison cell.

"Well, that bulb's burned out, so we should probably throw it away," I noted, pointing at a bulb that hadn't worked since June. Mother hadn't changed it because she didn't care, and I hadn't changed it because I was too short, even when I was on a chair.

"Ugh, fine. Do it quickly."

"I can't, I'm too short. I've tried."

"Just use your wand!" he ordered, as if it was obvious.

"Really? Remember that my mum is dead and so obviously if I use magic they'll assume it's me? Do we have to go through that discussion again?" He waved his arms about and mouth random words, obviously making fun of me. "Just do it, Draco, okay? The chair is right there."

He grabbed the chair and stepped on it, harder than he really needed to, and glared at me. I glared right back, although I'm sure my glare wasn't nearly as intimidating as his.

He looked back at the light bulb. I waited for him to change it, but he just stood there, staring at it. I waited there for at least a minute, wondering what the hell he was doing just standing there, when I realized something. Being a muggle-hating pureblood, he didn't know how to change a light bulb.

I chuckled, because the situation was a bit funny. He just turned and glared at me, as if I had mortally wounded him. "How many Draco Malfoys does it take to change a light bulb?" I said through my chuckles.

"What?"

"Never mind, its' a joke. You pick out a stereotype and ask many it takes to change a light bulb, then make an answer that's a slight on the stereotype." He continued to blink at me, obviously not getting it. "Er . . . How many blondes does it take to change a light bulb?" He waited with a very sour expression on his face, mouth curled in a sneer. "Twenty. One to hold the bulb, nineteen to pick up and turn the ladder."

"Ha ha, very droll."

"It's funny because it's supposed to be easy."

"Well, I'm not a primitive, backwards muggle who has to rely on stupid things like this, but my own mind because I'm not stupid, so will you bloody tell me how to do it?" he snapped, a pink flush creeping up his neck. Obviously he didn't like not knowing how to do something.

I nodded, and explained what to do. He caught on quickly, since it wasn't that hard, but the whole time he griped.

"There," he drawled as he threw the bulb in the rubbish bin, "can we go now?"

* * *

Later that night, when everyone was getting ready for bed and school the next morning, Draco stood beside Crabbe and Goyle while I sat on the couch, sighing because I knew that I would have to go back to being depressed and having to hide it without the escape Draco had provided me. No, I was to dwell constantly on being alone, and having to see Severus, knowing that he liked me but wouldn't do anything about it. I wondered how I was going to stay sane, what with Umbridge's stupid lessons. If she was an actual bleeding teacher, then I wouldn't have to have lessons every Friday with Severus, making things so much worse. I couldn't see myself getting any happier any time soon, not with the whole 'romantic' situation I found myself and the war, too.

"Crabbe, Goyle, how many Harry Potters does it take to change a light bulb?" he said suddenly, grey eyes lit up with inspiration. Blaise Zabini, who was nearby, turned and raised an eyebrow at Draco. Crabbe and Goyle looked stumped (which, actually, didn't' change much for their expression, really.) Draco smirked. "Just the one. He holds the bulb and waits for the world to revolve around him."

I actually let out a few laughs, which got Draco's attention, who was also laughing at his own joke. I was the only one who was amused besides him, though.

"Uh . . . I don't get it," Crabbe said, his surprisingly soft voice loud for through the silence.

Blaise was still raising an eyebrow at him.

Draco, who looked around with pink cheeks and embarrassment written across his forehead. His eyes lit up again. "All right, fine. How many Snapes does it take to change the torches?"

There was a slight dramatic silence.

"None. He gives Longbottom a detention and makes him do it."

I had heard about the infamous Longbottom, so I did chuckle, although not as loudly as before. Hearing about Severus only made me feel worse. Blaise, however, enjoyed it, and allowed a smirk to mar his haughty, black features.

"I still don't get it," Crabbe muttered to Goyle, who just shrugged.

Draco sighed. "Idiots," he snapped, then stormed off.


	26. Chapter 29

Chapter 29: It's A Little Bit Funny, This Feeling Inside . . .

Talking to Dumbledore was always a bit strange. I knew that he was getting up tehre in his eyars and all of that, but for some reason he always acted like some odd little kid--the type of kid that people look at and think that he shouldn't eat so much sugar. Or at least a kid that's vying for the parents' attention. But, at the same time, it was like he radiated power. Although he was old, and somehow reminded me of a little kid, I knew Dumbledore could kick my ass, and then eat it for lunch. But he never seemed to flaunt the fact that he knew he could.

"And do you have any prior arrangements for this Christmas holiday?" Dumbledore asked calmly.

I shifted in the seat across from his. This wasn't what I'd come to talk to him about, and he knew it. "Oh, uh, no, not really. I never leave Hogwarts."

He smiled and nodded his head slowly. "So you will be able to continue your extra lessons with Severus?"

"Yeah," I said, smiling at him.

Our lessons had been all about Defence Against the Dark Arts, ever since that night. We didn't speak about anything else, and we didn't stand to close or touch each other. If I moved too close to him, he would take a step back. If he accidentally touched, he would jerk away from me as quickly as possible. Fridays were no longer something I looked forward too, and neither were my lessons. It was like dangling a chocolate pie in front of a person on a diet. I knew I couldn't have him and I knew he wanted me to, but neither of us did anything because it was wrong.

"You are faring quite well in your lessons," he pointed out with a knowing look in his eye. I smiled briefly at him and nodded, feeling extremely awkward. It was like he was pushing along the edges of the story I didn't want to reveal to him. "He talks about you quite often, Danielle."

"Yeah . . . I imagine he does . . . He doesn't have many extra lessons with many students, does he?"

He raised his eyebrows and gave me that all-knowing smile. "Oh, I can see at least one in his near future but yes, at the time, you are the only student he's giving extra lessons to."

"Well, er, I guess Sever--" I caught myself, but realized it was too late and I couldn't cover it up by saying Professor or Snape. I cleared my throat and looked away from him for a few seconds, then looked back at him, even though I felt my cheeks burn slightly. "Professor Snape is a good teacher."

"He's also a good man," he told me, and I caught the slightly ominous tone.

I nodded, feeling embarrassed. "Yes, I . . . I know."

"You are also a good woman. You are no longer a child, Danielle, but a woman."

I nodded slowly, getting the very strange feeling that Dumbledore wasn't just throwing out any old random compliment, but one that hew knew meant something. Remembering how Severus had called himself a paedophile, and that I had told him I wasn't a child, I wondered if Dumbledore was talking about the same thing, or if I was just looking for excuses. Dumbledore wouldn't know about our feelings and situation, would he? And would he condone a teacher/student relationship? There was so much about him I didn't really understand or know about. In fact, all I really knew about Dumbledore was his first name was Albus, he was the head of the school and the Order, and he was gay. Other than that, I had absolutely no idea what he was like, or what he would, or would not, condone.

"I see you've changed your hair and eyes," he said conversationally, that ominous look in his eyes gone and a warm smile across his face. "I rather like it. It's so . . . Different. I like change, every now and then. It's gets rid of the redundancy, doesn't it? Sherbet lemon?"

I took the hard candy and put it in my mouth, sucking on it while I smiled at him. "I wanted different," I informed around the candy in my mouth.

"Well, you did very well on different. Why, I barely even recognized you! Do you like it?"

"Not as much as my old hair and eyes, but . . . well, yeah, I guess."

He looked me over, and I got the distinct impression he knew the whole reason as to why I'd changed my appearance. "Hmm . . . Do you ever want to go back?"

"Um . . . I don't know."

"Ah . . . I understand."

"Sometimes, I'm not quite sure even _I_ understand," I mumbled, still shifting in my seat uncomfortably. "Professor . . . Er . . . Can I ask you something?"

"Yes, of course."

I opened my mouth to ask if it was wrong for a teacher and a student to have a relationship different from the expected one, but it got lost somewhere in my mouth. I didn't want to get anyone in trouble. So I reconsidered. "Have you ever been in love?" I decided on asking that instead, even though I was pretty sure he knew what I'd originally wanted to ask.

"The short answer to that is yes."

"What was he like?" I asked, tilting my head to the side.

He furrowed his eyebrows and seemed to look past me, at something that wasn't in the room. "I believe that's a story for another day, Danielle . . ." I nodded, feeling a little awkward because I'd asked. "Love is a very powerful emotion . . . The most powerful emotion. Perhaps we don't love wisely . . . But then again, if we all loved wisely, what would be the point?"

I shrugged a little bit, not really knowing what to say.

"Danielle, I will tell you what I told Severus--I will never tell you not to act on your feelings, especially if it's love. I condone all types of love--I don't believe that I am in any position to tell someone who, or who not, to love. How he acts is entirely up to him."

So he had known all along. Why didn't it surprise me?

"So, what is it that Lord Voldemort wanted with you this time?"

So we were finally at the topic of conversation that we were supposed to be at. Oddly enough, I was glad, since I felt really weird talking about my love life (or lack thereof) with the headmaster. "He just wants me to keep an eye on the Death Eaters here at school--most of them are seventh years, but there are a few in my year, too. Most are Slytherins, but there are a few in other houses . . . I'm not sure. I gave you the list, but if I find out about any more, I'll let you know. Also, uh, I'm supposed to . . . Look for potential Death Eaters and report to him those who I think might be good. He's already denied Pansy Parkinson, because she's not capable of keeping her mouth shut, and loose lips sink ships, so . . ."

"Ah, yes, I have let the right people know of those few Death Eaters you've made known to me. Anything else you think I should know about?"

I nodded slowly, rubbing my left arm through my sleeve, thinking of how much it had burned when he'd called me. I hadn't been expecting it, but thankfully he'd done it in the middle of a lesson with Severus. When I clutched my arm and yelled at, surprised at the sudden scorching heat on my arm, he explained to me what was going on, and then escorted me to Hogsmeade (keeping at least three feet to my side, so as to prevent us accidentally bumping) and Apparated me to where the Dark Lord was, and went into another room while I was told what to do. Of course I told Severus exactly what had been said as soon as he took me back to Hogsmeade.

"Er . . . I think I've given Severus--" I paused for a second, wondering if I should try to take that back. After a second of Dumbledore acting completely unaware, I continued. "I gave him a list of potential Death Eaters--you know, those who might be interested. Draco and his group are at the top, obviously."

"Yes, he's given me a copy."

"Also . . . Um, since I am, you know, sort of related to Harry Potter, he sort of mentioned a prophecy that, um, he heard a bit about." I cleared my throat and rubbed the back of my head. "He said that's what he was looking for--the rest of the prophecy. He only told me that it was what made him go after the Potters that night--he didn't tell me what it said though."

Dumbledore nodded serenely. I figured that Dumbledore already knew that the Dark Lord was trying to find the rest of the prophecy, but it wouldn't help to mention it in case he didn't. "Yes . . . I imagine he told you how he knew of it, I am sure?"

"Yep. But . . . But I know he's different now. I trust him completely, and I realize . . . That he made some mistakes. I know if he could take it back, then he would." I finally understood why Severus thought it was his fault Lily was dead. When I'd heard about the prophecy, and that it had been Severus who had relayed it to him, and that it was that knowledge that made the Dark Lord go after the Potters . . . I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy.

Dumbledore stared at me, and I saw a line deepen in between his eyebrows. "Severus made a horrible mistake, and he pays greatly for it--every day. He has nothing but remorse . . . I am glad that you understand him, Danielle. Few people would. He has asked me never to tell what happened at the Hog's Head, or why he switched sides, and so I never have. Even though people constantly ask why I trust him so, why I believe he has switched sides . . . You must make me the same promise that you won't tell anybody about this, no matter how much they goad you, no matter how much you may feel you want them to trust him and understand him. He has asked for this knowledge to remain a secret, and I must ask you the same for his sake."

I nodded. "Of course."

"Does he know that you're aware of . . . what he did?"

"Yeah. I never block him out."

"Because you love him, or because you trust him?" he inquired.

I shrugged. "Both, I guess."

"Severus is very lucky, as are you, to have each other." I smiled and blushed, and I couldn't help the warm feeling that spread through me. "It is a wonderful thing, when those two come together--love and trust. Far too often one loves without trust, or one trusts without love . . . Needless to say, it doesn't go well, unless they both feel the same. I envy those who know it, because . . ." He got that faraway look in his eyes again, and I thought I saw something wet glisten underneath his eyes. Then she smiled at me. "Well, that's a story for another day."

I wondered if I would ever get to hear that story. Then I wondered if I actually wanted to. I didn't want to hear a story unless it had a happy ending.

* * *

When the Christmas holiday began, I felt light. I loved not having classes. I loved being able to sleep in as much as I wanted. Besides, the halls were empty, and there were less people in the common room to bug me, so I could let Prince out and let him slither across the common room floor, and walk around with him slithering around my hand without having other girls (and some guys) get scared. Honestly, some of them acted like my snake was going to jump at them and bite into their jugular.

At the moment though, I was going to my lessons with Severus. Friday seemed to be the day I looked forward to least. It was hell, having to be near him, knowing I couldn't actually be with him. Still, it was unavoidable.

"Are you doing anything Monday?" I asked when I sat down in front of him.

He furrowed his eyebrows slightly, as if confused. I guess it was a bit odd, considering I hadn't spoke to him about anything other than our lessons, or what the Dark Lord had told me. "Why would I?"

"It's Christmas. Some people do stuff on Christmas."

"No," he answered. He sat there for a few moments, as if he was waiting for something, waiting for me to say something else. I didn't have anything else to say--I just wondered if he did anything on Christmas. To be honest, I was trying to get us to have conversations again. "I have some . . . news," he said after awhile.

"Oh?"

"This will be our last class. You've progressed well enough to fend for yourself, and I have just been informed that I will have to be teaching Potter Occlumency." I blinked at him, completely bewildered. "It seems that the Dark Lord has some sort of connection with him, and is, at times, able to share thoughts with him. I am to teach him to block out these thoughts. We believe that, since the Dark Lord is now aware of this connection, he may use it to his advantage. I do not wish to teach Potter, I do not wish to spend more time with him than is absolutely necessary, however it is unavoidable, and you have progressed to the point that continuing these lesson will be fruitless."

My heart sank. "So . . . So this is the last time you and I will . . . see each other in some place other than Potions?" He nodded, and I noticed that his jaw clenched while he did so. "But I haven't even mastered the Patronus Charm."

"That isn't necessarily true. Last class you managed to ward off the boggart I took from Trelawney's cupboard. I believe that this time, you may be able to have it take form--we've been practicing it for awhile now."

We had been practicing it for awhile. Since I had much to learn, we didn't devote one class to one thing only--we tried to learn as much as possible, and the Patronus Charm had been something he'd been practicing with me ever since the first lesson. He had shown me his patronus only twice during the lessons. I don't think he likes to see the doe that much--I understood, of course. He'd told me that James's Patronus was a stag like Harry's, and I remember I'd pieced together what the doe meant.

"Oh . . . Well, if it doesn't--"

"I am confident that you will be able to do it this time. If not, then you may practice on your own time."

I felt an unexplainable amount of energy start to take over my body, like I had drank too much caffeine, and I felt like I needed to keep moving or my skin would crawl off of my body. It was like I was watching an hourglass run out of sand, and I knew that when the last piece of sand fell, something horrible was going to happen, and I was close to running out of sand. It was like I'd been told I was going to die, and I wanted to do something, anything, just something worthwhile before I died. I didn't want these lessons to be over--even if I'd hated them because it was a reminder of what I couldn't have, I had at least been able to be alone with him.

"Okay," I finally said, and I noticed the crack in my voice. I wanted to cry. I didn't need to cry--there weren't tears in my eyes or anything--but it's what I wanted to do.

"Shall we then?" he said, standing out of his chair and moving away from behind his desk.

I nodded and stood up, standing in front of him, at my respectful distance. We faced each other. "Thank you, Severus. You're a great teacher."

He didn't reply. His jaw was clenched together. Finally, he nodded.

When he opened the cupboard, a dementor came out. Originally, when it first came out, it had been the dead body of Severus, and he'd gotten quite uncomfortable looking at it and stood. He told me that I had to think of dementors when around this particular boggart in order for our lessons to work. I'd been forced to get rid of Severus' dead body. I understood why he didn't want to stand too close to the boggart, because I figured he would probably see Lily's body, and I didn't want to do that to him. It took me awhile to think of a dementor, but after awhile, it became easy.

I warded him off, but all I managed to produce was a small white shield. I thought of Severus, obviously, for my happy memory--mostly the moment of when he'd smiled at me on my birthday, or when we had kissed (although, at the time, it hadn't made me happy at all, only angry) or something else like that.

It took awhile, but I finally did get my patronus. I had to think of how happy I'd been when I'd gotten my snake for my birthday, and how they both had black eyes, and how I'd jumped into his arms and kissed him . . .

My patronus, not surprisingly, was a snake. A very large snake, obviously, that wrapped around the dementor like it would its normal prey. The snake reminded me of Severus, because he'd given it to me, and because of how happy he'd made me that day.

He put it back into the cupboard, and then turned to me as my patronus disappeared. I knew the end of our lesson was approaching.

He took a few steps closer to me, but I noticed he made sure to stay at least three feet from me. "Very well. It took longer than I had expected, but . . ." He nodded once.

"Okay . . . So I guess I'll go now."

He shook his head. "Not quite . . . There is one more thing I must teach you. It is simple, but only to be used in battle. It is a spell of my own design."

I nodded in understanding. He had taught a few spells he made up, but he had sworn me to secrecy. None of them were really hard to learn.

He transfigured a chair into a large stuffed dummy. He went over and stood beside me, keep the distance of three feet of course, and pointed his wand. "This is not a spell to be used lightly, understand?" I nodded. "Sectumsempra!" he shouted while he waved his wand.

And sliced the dummy's head right off, cotton flying everywhere.

My eyes widened. "Oh my God . . ."

"I wouldn't suggest you use it on a person's head, but I needed you to understand the severity of the words you speak. It is dark magic. I will, of course, teach you the counter-spell--it the only spell that can heal a cut from this curse. Obviously it cannot heal something as severe as decapitation, but cuts along the body . . . However, the most important thing you must learn about sectumsempra is how to aim it--a slight miscalculation can cause disastrous results. Also, you must concentrate on how much damage you wish to inflict. A simple cut, or a shot to kill."

I nodded, feeling very awkward, but at the same time, powerful.

We practiced that awhile, me cutting the dummy in the various sections he told me to cut, so I could learn how to aim. We spent the next while practicing the varying degrees of damage it could cause, from small slices, to deep ones. Severus always went to the dummy and healed it, saying some type of spell that sounded a bit like a song, and I could see the fabric of the dummy he'd transfigured stitching back together. I remembered the spell from when he'd healed my hand, and realized that the healing spell he used worked for other things besides the sectumsempra curse.

When he thought that I had gotten the hang of it (none of the spells he made were hard, although they were very effective) he told me the theory and the spell in order to heal the cuts. He cut a large slash across the dummy's abdomen, cotton peeking out.

"Now, I want you to heal the cut. In a real situation, there would be a slight chance of scarring, unless dittany was applied. This is the last thing I am going to teach you."

I nodded, my chest aching and my breath hitching.

I tried healing the cut, but it wasn't doing anything. My hand was shaking, and my voice kept catching. I didn't want to leave him knowing that it was the last time we would be alone together. I couldn't get it to heal at all, even though I kept saying the spell over and over again, moving my wrists and wand as I was supposed to.

"You're doin it wrong," he finally revealed impatiently. "You need to use your wrist more, and keep your hand steady. Try again."

I tried to keep my hand steady, but because I was focusing on it, it wouldn't stop shaking, and my wrist seemed to have tightened up. I don't know if it was because I was nervous or something, but I knew it derived from my fear of knowing this was our last class together.

"Danielle, keep your hand steady," he ordered, more impatience in his tone.

And he grabbed my hand, stepping right beside me. This was the first he'd touched me since that night on the couch.

"You must move your hand like _this,"_ he informed, moving my wrist with his fingers. Where his fingers touched my skin burned and sent waves of warmth up my arm.

He let go of my wrist and stepped away from me, a look of concentration on his face while he looked at the dummy. I don't think he realized that he'd touched me--or at least realized that it had caught me off guard, anyway.

I tried again, but my whole arm was shaking now, and my breath was coming rapidly. I could still feel his hand on me, even though he'd let go. I tried again, but my voice squeaked slightly and then it cut out.

"What's your problem? It isn't difficult, Danielle, it's fairly simple." I glanced at him and saw his staring at me with annoyance etched into every harsh line of his face. I didn't think I could explain to him. He scoffed. "You're doing it completely wrong--I don't' see why you're having such a hard time with it. Your posture, your voice . . . It's all wrong. Try again."

Him staring at me, annoyed, and telling me I was doing a crappy job didn't help. I tried again, but nothing happened. I rushed through it.

"You're doing it all wrong," he snapped, coming up behind me, and practically jerking my back against his chest. It was like all the air left my lungs and I felt suddenly very dazed. He held my right wrist with his right hand, stretching his arm along mine. "Now, move along with me, understand?" he growled. I could practically hear the snarl in his tone.

He started moving, waving his arm and rolling his wrist, and because he held me against his chest with he left arm, I had no choice but to do the same. My body felt weak and wobbly, like Jell-O, and I was dazed, so I moved with him, me feeling his chest move with breath against my back, the pulse from his wrist beating on the back of mine, right where the joint was . . .

Suddenly he stopped moving, and I felt his grip tighten. His chest stopped moving, and I realized that he'd stopped breathing. Judging by the slight burning in my chest, I'd held my breath to. I finally let out a shaky breath, relieving my lungs. I was positive that if he let go I would fall to the ground .And I knew that he was going to let go, because he refused to even be near me recently.

My heart wasn't beating any faster than normal, but it was beating harder. Each pump was like a pound to the ribcage--like a steady hammer, striking a nail with powerful hits, taking its time. The rhythm steady. My blood felt thicker than normal, and hotter, as it ran through my veins and rushed past my ears. He was pressing against me, body warm, holding me steady . . . I felt a pleasurable throb somewhere between my legs, and I tried to ignore it, but it just got more intense. I had his body against mine.

I felt him let out a slow breath and I thought I felt him go to pull away, but then he didn't. He forced my wan against the clash on the dummy's abdomen. "Heal it," he whispered next to my ear, tickling my lobe with his breath, the low timbre of his voice vibrating my skin, and affecting a part of me that was nowhere near his mouth . . . Although the thought of his mouth near there made the temperature in the room sky-rocket.

I said the spell and moved my wrist along the slash as he had taught me, forcing his hand to move along mine, and his body to move, since he had not let go of me. I was aware of the fact that I was healing the cut, but I was more focused on having him against me, and I couldn't even really hear the spell even though I was saying it.

When I was finished saying the spell, my hand dropped to my side, and since he was holding onto my wrist, his hand dropped with it. I leaned against him, tilting my head to the side, leaning the back of my head against his collarbone. I could feel his breath against eh side of my neck that was exposed, and his warm breath travelled across the flesh there, tickling me and oddly pleasurable.

He was now holding my left wrist as well, his skin warm, but barely touching mine. He brought his fingertips up my arms gently, skin barely touching. It sent shivers through me, cold and hot at the same time. My breath was getting heavier as he brought his hands up to my shoulders, squeezed them both gently, then started his way back down my arms.

I realized that my robes were short sleeved very suddenly. I always wore short sleeves to the Defence lessons, because I didn't want to have to keep rolling them up.

Feeling his hands slide down my arms felt like slipping into a warm bath--comforting and warm and relaxing al lat the same time, yet the pleasure that came from it was something entirely different. Then he slipped his arms around my abdomen, very slowly, so I could distinctly feel his arms moving across my belly even through my robes, the fabric suddenly seeming thinner than it actually was. I put my arms over his arms while he pressed his chest against me more, and I could feel his cheek against mine, his breath stirring along my face.

"I am a weak man, Danielle," he murmured quietly.

I shook my head so slightly I wondered if I'd actually moved it at all or just thought about it. "No you're not," I managed to whisper. I could feel his chest moving against my back, heavier than before. His breath was just as laboured as mine.

"Better to be weak than a coward I suppose," he noted aloud, then bent his head down and pressed his lips against the nape of my exposed neck, since I was tilted my head to the side and leaning the back of my head against his collarbone.

I let out a harsh breath and clenched my arms around his arms tighter. He flicked his tongue against my skin and bit my bottom lip, not fully understand how that simple act could cause my body to hum. HE began suckling the flesh there, slowly and softly, his warm mouth and tongue paying attention to just one spot, causing wave after wave of something that felt like warm electricity to move throughout my body, particularly in a certain area that throbbed pleasurably. When he dragged his teeth along my skin, I whimpered quietly and arched my back, my eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

I felt his lips curve into a smile against my neck, and I felt rather than heard a very small, breathy laugh. He knew that he'd turned me on. He knew it. Judging by the fact I felt something pressing against my lower back, I wasn't the only one aroused.

I bit into my lip harder.

"Are you doing anything Monday?" he asked, his mouth tantalizing close to my ear, so I could barely feel his bottom lip grazing my lobe, and I hoped to God my ears were clean of wax. I realized that I had asked him the same thing earlier, and I remembered that he had seemed to be waiting for something else.

"No . . ."

"Would you like to?"

"Yes," I whispered quietly.

"Would you like to accompany me to London?"

I though the answer to that should've been obvious. "Yes."

He pulled away form me, and I felt suddenly cold. He stood directly in front of me, holding each of my hands in his own. He brought one hand up, kissed my knuckles, then brought up the other hand and did the same, keeping eye contact with me the entire time, a small smirk playing on the side of him mouth. I had never seen him look more attractive than he did right there, when he smirked like that.

"Wear muggle clothing, if you have any. Dress nicely, but not fancy."

I nodded, knowing that if I spoke, I would probably croak like a frog. My heart felt like it was in my throat at the moment.

"I'll see you Monday, then. Seven o' clock. I will pick you up." He let go of my hands and then brushed my brunette hair from my eyes, searching my face. "I shall escort you back to the common room now."

We walked thought the dungeons, at a much slower pace than what was needed, and my arm kept bumping his. After about the eighth time our arms bumped, he caught my hand in his and held it. I leaned against him, knowing I had a silly grin on my face. I liked his fingers--they were long and elegant, and smooth. I liked how he threaded his fingers through mine, too.

When we made it to the portrait, I turned and looked up at him, knowing I still had that silly grin on my face. He still had a thin-lipped smile.

He let go of my hand, brushed my hair away from my face again, and leaned down. He barely brushed his lips against mine, soft and chaste, but it definitely wasn't a kiss I'd give a relative. He pulled away about an inch, eyes on mine, then leaned down against and kissed me a second time. I leaned into it, loving the feel of his slightly chapped lips against mine.

He took a step away, and I felt like I was going to melt into a puddle right in front of him. I knew I was blushing because my cheeks burned.

"Bye, Severus," I said, inching towards the portrait but keeping my back to it, so I could see him still.

He nodded once. "Goodbye, Danielle." He walked backwards a bit, then turned around and walked off slowly.

I said the password and entered the common room, knowing that I was beaming like an idiot. Come Christmas, I would be going on my first date, and it would be with Severus.


	27. Chapter 30

Chapter 30: The Date

The weekend had been unnaturally long. Each minute seemed to take an hour to pass, and the days seemed like years. Obviously my want of Monday to come over-exaggerated the time. But I couldn't help it. I was constantly looking to see what time it was, as if there the minute hand would be pointing at the time 'it is now Monday and time for your date' but obviously it didn't.

My first date was with someone I loved. Maybe I wasn't an expert on dating, but usually love came after dating. Dating was meant as a first step towards love. Love usually didn't come first. Did it? No, if it did, then nobody would ever get married. But somehow, it seemed perfect, and I couldn't imagine going on a date without loving someone first. Of course, I knew Severus didn't love me as I love him, but I didn't care. I love him--and that's all that mattered.

What if I screwed it up? What if I ruined it? What if I got something stuck in my teeth, or I burped, or he realized it was all a mistake? What if he decided he didn't want to be with me again, because he'd gone back to thinking he was a pervert? Obviously he wasn't a paedophile--according to law, one stopped being a child at age fourteen, and became an adolescent at fifteen. At sixteen, an adolescent was considered able to have adult thoughts, and became an adult at seventeen (eighteen in the muggle world) and so I was not technically a child, and was considered able of adult thought, so why on earth would he think he was a paedophile?

Of course, he was thirty-five, and I was sixteen, so maybe it was the age difference that frightened. After all, on didn't often hear; "Oh, this is my wife, we're nineteen years apart, which means I was almost completely out of my teens before she was even born, and I was considered an adult before she was a dirty thought in her daddy's pants!" Not that I was expecting marriage any time soon, of course, but still, thinking about how far apart we were really did make it seem a bit strange.

And other people would call him a cradle-robber. Some people would understand, though. Some people wondered how the hell a man of his age would even be interested in someone my age. But why would they say that? It wasn't like I was twelve! If I had been twelve or even fourteen, I might have been a little sickened at the idea, but sixteen was different. Anybody who watched how fourteen-year-olds acted and how sixteen-year-olds acted would be able to agree with me. He hadn't even had a romantic thought about me until the February before I turned sixteen, and even then, at fifteen, I think I was pretty mature. And at least he tried to quell it.

Besides, it wasn't like he was forcing me to do anything with him. It was all consensual--completely consensual. And in my mind, it wasn't disgusting, and Dumbledore hadn't thought it disgusting either. I was a year from being considered an adult in the wizarding world, and two years from being considered an adult in the muggle world. The only real problem I saw was that he was my teacher, and people might think I would be getting unfair treatment. Anybody who knew Severus knew he was biased for Slytherin anyway, but at least he didn't give unfair grades. He only ever gave me grades I deserved, and I knew that even if I was going out with him, he wouldn't give me anything I didn't deserve. Others might not see it that way, but it was the truth.

Then I wondered if I was considered his girlfriend. It was a stupid thought, but I wondered it anyway. Was he my boyfriend? It sounded so juvenile--boyfriend/girlfriend. With Severus, I felt like I should be saying something more elegant, like paramour or lover . . . Except for I always viewed 'lover' as someone who had sex, and I wasn't planning on having sex. I didn't know when I would be ready, or _if_ I would be ready, but I knew that I wasn't at the moment, so lover wouldn't fit. Paramour--yes, that seemed like a better word. Were we paramours? But even paramour sounded wrong . . . Like Severus was some guy from the Victorian era who played cricket with the queen and said things like "Pip-pip, tally-ho, I'm so incredibly British! _Ra_-ther!" Like he was some sort of stereotypical Brit that Americans thought we all acted like.

When Monday came, it was like the whole day passed in a haze, like it was all a dream, like at any moment I would wake up and find that I hadn't been to our lesson yet, and he was still avoiding me. It all seemed to have happened fast--he had only distanced himself from me about a month and a half, which at the moment had seemed like forever, but really, it hadn't been. Why had he changed his mind? Had he meant to? Or was it just because he touched me? Would he change his mind again? God, I hoped not--I didn't know if I could handle being whipped back and forth like that.

I started getting ready at five. I had wanted to get ready at four, but I knew that I'd get done too early and nothing was more annoying than being ready too early and having to wait. So I took a bath (a bath was far more relaxing than a shower) and then picked up my best muggle clothes, which I only had because I'd hid them from my mother. I wore them on weekends--or I used to, until I'd decided to be spy and wearing muggle clothes would have given away my position. Now I hid them from everyone.

I was wearing a long, white skirt, and a green low-cut shirt that was quite snug, so it made my breasts look rather impressive. I was disappointed when I looked at my shoulder-length brunette hair, and my blue eyes. I wanted to be stunning, and I did look far better with red, long hair and green eyes. Maybe I would let my hair go back to normal, since Severus obviously thought of me as someone other than Lily. I tried pulling my hair back in a bun, but my hair was only to my shoulder, so the bun looked stupid and hung to low on my head, and when I tried pulling it back in a ponytail, it seemed to make the skin on my forehead too tight and looked too casual. I even tried crimping it or making it curly, but my hair (being straight) was too hard to do anything with it unless does by a professional like my mum had been. Unfortunately, I wasn't a professional, so I was forced to just let it hang. But I thoguth I looked pretty, with the nice muggle clothes and the makeup. I was wearing the same flat sandals I had worn to the Yule Ball, and that brought back a reminder of when he'd danced with me, and how all of those fairies had surrounded me because I was wearing muggle jasmine perfume. I laughed at the memory.

I ended up finishing twenty minutes before seven, and ended up pacing around the Slytherin common room. I paced nervously, wringing my hands, staring up at the slight domed ceiling, at the green lamps, and how the green light seemed to wash over everything . . . I noticed just how slowly time moved, too, and how nervous I was that I didn't look pretty enough, or what if I'd over-dressed?

God, I was a nervous wreck. I wish I could say I was exceedingly calm, but I couldn't help it. I remembered making fun of girls when they were going on a date, and saying they were acting overly girly, and Draco and I would laugh at them. Now I felt bad, and realized exactly why they'd acted like that.

When I heard someone knock on the portrait an eternity later, I almost jumped right out of my skin, then rushed to the portrait. I steadied myself and my breathing, then opened the portrait, trying to appear calm.

Severus stood there, and he smiled at me briefly. He was wearing a dark green turtle neck and black slacks. His hair looked like he had combed through it more thoroughly, and it didn't shine with grease as much as it usually did. Not that I cared about his hair being greasy, but the fact he did it made my heart leap.

Noticing I was looking at his hair, he shifted his weight onto his other foot, and tugged on the sleeves of his turtle neck, before he put his hands behind his back, obviously to hide the fact he was tugging on his sleeves. Was he nervous as well? "I would have put it in a ponytail, but I thought I looked completely ridiculous, but if you would prefer me to, I can."

"Your hair is fine. You're . . . very handsome."

He pressed his lips tight together, obviously trying not to smile, and I noticed that his cheeks turned a very slight shade of pink. He looked at the floor for a moment, as if trying to hide the fact there was a warmth and brightness in his eyes that I'd only seen once before, but I couldn't exactly remember when.

"And you're very beautiful," he said when he looked back at me, rocking on his heels ever so slightly.

I beamed at him, and I felt my cheeks burn. I also looked down, but then I stepped out of the portrait and shut it behind me. "Thanks," I muttered, then looked back at him, my head still lowered slightly and tilted to the side.

We looked at each other for a moment, me feeling the very strong urge to say something to prevent silence, but I knew that if I did it would sound stupid and forced, so I kept my mouth shut.

"So . . Green huh?" I said randomly.

Dammit. Didn't keep my mouth shut for very long, did I?

"I was going to wear black, as per usual, but considering the occasion, I opted for green." The turtleneck actually looked very endearing on him, and fit against his chest better than robes, so I could tell he probably had a nice body underneath. Not a sculpted body of perfect lean muscles, but I could tell it wasn't horrible, either.

"I like it."

"Shall we then?" he said, offering me his arm.

I nodded quickly, then looped my arm through his.

"You two behave now," Salazar from the portrait called mockingly as we walked away.

* * *

He had Apparated me from Hogsmeade to his house on Spinner's End. Just as I was about to ask him why he'd Apparated us there, he then led me out of the house, and took me to a car, which I assumed must've been his, though for some reason, it didn't seem right for him to have a car.

I went to open the passenger door, but then his hand hit mine because he'd gone to open it for me. "Sorry," I mumbled, feeling like an idiot. For some reason, it hadn't occurred to me that he'd open the door.

He didn't say anything, but opened the car door for me, holding it open until I got in, then shut it for me. I hurriedly put on my seatbelt while he went over to the driver's side. When he sat in his seat, I blurted; "Sorry, I should have realized you were going to open the door."

He turned and raised an eyebrow at me. "Not everybody does, Danielle. You have no need to apologize."

"Oh . . . well, I'm not saying you have to, either. I'll love you the same even if you don't."

He chuckled lightly and shook his head. I realized how stupid I sounded, and I blushed. His rearranged the rear-view mirror, then put on his seatbelt. He missed the first time and had to try to connect it a second time. I noticed that his hands were shaking.

He fumbled with his car keys so much he couldn't get it into the ignition. After the second time he failed, he let out a sigh and closed his eyes, tilting his head up slightly in frustration. I almost laughed, but I managed to hold it back, because I knew it would only embarrass him. He opened his mouth a few times like he was about to say something, but then he sighed and focused back on the ignition. He got the key in this time.

We drove in silence, me taking in the scenery as we passed. We drove for about fifteen minutes when he finally parked in front of a quaint little restaurant that had dim lighting on the inside, and the place was packed. Although, it being Christmas, of course it would be. When he parked, I took of my seatbelt and almost opened the door to get out, but then I saw him tense and stare at me like he was afraid of something, then remember that he would probably want to open the car door again, so I smiled at him and retracted my hand.

He nodded once and left the car, then went over to the passenger side and opened it. He offered me his hand and helped me out of the car, although I didn't really need it, but it was sweet nonetheless. He walked me over to the restaurant, opened the door for me with the hand that wasn't holding mine, and we both walked in.

He walked over to the guy behind a podium-type thing. "Do you have a reservation or not? If you don't, we only have three booths left, and they're over by the fish tank," the guy said, giving me an appreciative look-over, then giving Severus a withering look that suggested he thought he was ugly.

"I have a reservation; Severus Snape."

"How old is she?" he asked, looking at me again.

Severus pursed his lips together, obviously frustrated. "I highly doubt that is any of your business."

"Twenty," I answered a bit curtly, glaring at the guy. "And he's thirty-two," I lied, raising my eyebrow at him. "Now, I believe he said he had a reservation."

The guy seemed to consider what I'd said, the nodded. "Right this way." He led us over to a round table that had one chair on each side, and it was closer to the windows. He plucked off the little folded card that had the word 'reserved' written on it.

Severus pulled out a chair and smiled at me. For a minute I didn't know what was going on, then I realized he was seating me, so I carefully stepped in front of the chair and sat. I helped him scoot it under the table, blushing. I hadn't realized what he was doing again. God I was an idiot.

We both sat there in silence for a moment before our waiter handed us a menu. He smiled briefly at us, then walked away quickly to serve one of his other tables. I opened the menu, and quickly looked at the beverages.

"Been here before?" I asked.

"Yes. I come here during the summer. Lily and I used to--" He cut off very suddenly and I looked at him over the menu. "I went here often when I was younger, as well."

"You can say her name, Severus," I said, raising my eyebrow at him.

He nodded thankfully, then folded up his menu and sat it back down on the table. "It was somewhere we enjoyed to go. Obviously we walked, it took about forty-five minutes, however we enjoyed it because it was fancier than fast food, yet it wasn't too fancy, so the price wasn't too high, and we wouldn't have to get dressed in order to eat here."

"Yeah, I like it here too. So far, anyway. The only muggle restaurants I've been to are, well, fast food. We didn't go out much anyway."

He nodded, just as the waiter came back, holding a piece of paper. "You two ready to order drinks?" he asked, smiling charmingly at me.

"Raspberry lemonade," I said, smiling.

"Water," Severus said.

The waiter looked at Severus with confusion, then at me, apparently wondering why we were with each other. He then scribbled that down and walked off with a shrug.

"He thinks I'm not good enough for you." His black eyes followed the waiter malevolently, a scowl plastered on his face. "I got it often then, too. I'm sorry I can't be more attractive, Danielle. You must feel ashamed to be seen with me," he stated, finally tearing his gaze off of the waiter.

I shook me head, reached forward, and put my hand over his. I squeezed it and smiled at him. "You're the most handsome man here, Severus." He looked at me strangely, then nodded, holding my hand briefly over the table before pulling his hand away, a smiling thinly.

"You are too kind."

"No, I'm not. I'm honest. You're attractive." He stared into my eyes, and I knew what he was doing. I opened my mind up to him. I don't exactly know when I had started finding him attractive, but I did. I especially loved his hands and his mouth, but his eyes were extremely intense. I think it was his eyes I thought of first. And his voice, it was like crushed velvet, soft and smooth, but rough enough to be manly.

When he appeared satisfied, I smiled at him.

"Your compliment is appreciated," he stated after awhile.

"You're welcome."

He nodded, interlocking his fingers together.

"If you don't mind me asking, what changed your mind? You . . . You weren't going to, you know, do anything about your feelings, remember? I'm glad you have, though, don't think I'm not grateful, 'cause I am, I just wanted to know why you're okay with it now."

"I spoke with Dumbledore. I suspected he knew before I told him. There is little that happens without his knowledge." He seemed somewhat annoyed by that fact, and I chuckled a little. "May I show you? It would be easier to see than explain."

"Yeah, of course."

I stared into his eyes, and I opened my mind, waiting for the rush of memories.

"_I bought her a snake," Severus stated while he walked beside Dumbledore, somewhere dark that I didn't recognize._

_Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at him. "Did you? Hmm . . . Interesting gift, do you think she'll like it?"_

"_She told me she always wanted one." Dumbledore nodded and took it at face value. "I've already given it to her, as it were. She kissed me."_

"_This was before she received her Dark Mark, I take it?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Did you kiss her back?"_

_Severus was quiet for a moment, then put his hands behind his back. "I was about to, but her mother interrupted us, and called me a lecher." There was another moment of silence, then he let out a sigh, as if he had resigned to an argument. "Do you think it possible to love two people at the same time?"_

"_I do, Severus. I also believe it possible to love more than once . . ." Severus nodded, furrowing his eyebrows in thought. "That isn't the question you should be asking, though, and I'm not the one you should be asking it to." _

_Severus waited for Dumbledore to continue. _

"_I think you should be asking if you do love her, and not Lily. When you know the answer to that, then we'll talk about this again."_

I blinked when the memory ended, and felt a bit awkward, as I always did. It was like watching him get undressed--like I was some type of voyeur, although he was giving me permission.

"_I thought the feelings would stop, but they haven't. It isn't Lily, Headmaster--it's her. Obviously I cannot allow our relationship to continue, and that's why I've changed our lessons to only once a week. She is progressing well, and to have more lessons would be fruitless. I cannot give into my weakness again, Headmaster. There is too much at stake, and she does not need to see me three times a week."_

_Dumbledore was pacing around his office, eyebrows furrowed in thought. "Severus, you are not attracted to children--she is hardly a child. She is an adolescent, therefore it would be ephebophilia . . . However, considering that it is only one adolescent, then you have no condition, and you are entirely sane. You know this, of course, Severus--you are far too harsh on yourself, and are looking for excuses to distance yourself from her."_

_Severus was sitting in the chair across from the desk. "I still love Lily."_

"_Of course you do, but you can love her as well. I'm not saying you do love her, but there is the potential."_

"_But men like me aren't well, and I've made far too many mistakes, not to mention the war . . ."_

"_War is a time of hate and violence, and what people need most in these times is love. Mistakes are made to be learned from. You and I both know you are perfectly sane, which makes these feelings far scarier . . . love always is . . ."_

_Severus watched the headmaster pace for a few more moments, then he nodded. "Am I within the constraints of the law and school policy?"_

"_Of course not. But there happen to be several laws and by-laws I don't agree with. As you know, same-sex marriage is not yet legal. The minister once said that when the Muggle Minister allowed it, so would he. I don't believe love should ever be outlawed, so long as it is consensual, and real. I have no qualms, as long as you are able to separate her student life and personal life." Dumbledore made his way to his desk and sat, blue eyes twinkling at Severus, whose lip was curling slightly in an almost smile. "She is a woman, Severus. Not a child._

"_Now, to the main topic of discussion--I've received a letter from Danielle with future Death--"_

I stared at him, smiling slightly. There wasn't much I could say to that. I could see why he changed his mind, and I was very glad of Dumbledore. If he didn't care, then I felt perfectly fine with our relationship. Obviously I wouldn't go around telling everybody, but the only person I thought who really needed to know was Dumbledore.

"So . . . The whole thing with touching me in our lesson was planned, then?"

"No, I was planning to wait for Valentines Day, but I found I don't have that much of a romantic side, and when I realized I was touching you, I welcomed the opportunity. When you asked what I was doing for Christmas, I thought you were going to ask me."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "I'm not that brave."

Our waiter came back, holding my raspberry lemonade and Severus' water. He placed it in front of us, stuck a straw in each cup, then whipped out his notebook. "Have you decided what you wanted to eat?" he asked blandly, still giving Severus a look that I didn't like, and I felt the urge to smack him upside the head.

"I will have the salmon," Severus said, refusing to look at the waiter while he handed him his menu.

"And I will have the grilled tilapia," I said, smiling as I gave him the menu, but only to be polite.

The waiter nodded and left, and we both stared at each other. "You like fish," he realized aloud, a soft smile playing on the sides of his face.

I nodded and shrugged. "So do you."

We talked the rest of the night. He made a few sarcastic comments, of course, and I babbled nervously every now and then, but it was amazing. Even when the waiter came back to ask if everything was okay, Severus was polite to him, even though the guy was blatantly giving him disgusted glares, and obviously flirting with me. It was very sweet of him to be polite, because in his situation, I probably wouldn't have been. I wouldn't have been rude, but I wouldn't have been nice either.

When our food came, we ate slowly, staring at each other in the dim light, talking. As far as I was concerned, we were the only ones in the restaurant, even though it was crowded because it was Christmas. We spoke in hushed tones, and neither of us mentioned anything about the war, or the Dark Lord. He mentioned Lily once or twice, and each time he looked ashamed afterwards, but I didn't see why he should be--he loved her, after all, and she was an important part in his life. Surprisingly, I wasn't jealous at all, I was merely entranced by how he spoke to me.

When I ate the last bit of food off of my plate--he had finished before me--I drank the last bit of my raspberry lemonade, and smiled at him, hoping I didn't have anything on my teeth, because that would've been embarrassing.

"You ate everything," he pointed out.

I looked at my plate, then at his. "So did you."

"Girls rarely eat everything on dates."

I blinked a few times, then shifted uncomfortably in my chair. "Oh . . . I didn't know, I've never done this before. You know, I've never been on a date, obviously I eaten before now, I meant the date, not . . ."

"I enjoy that you did. I suppose most girls feel uncomfortable eating--it makes them feel fat." His black eyes widened suddenly. "Not that I think you're fat, of course not." I chuckled and shook my head, realizing that he was just as nervous as I was. He looked down for a moment. "I'm not very experienced either, Danielle. Remember? I _am_ a virgin."

I nodded, blushing slightly. Did he think that we were going to . . . ?

He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. "Not that I expect you to have sex with me; sex does not make a date. You don't owe me anything except for the pleasure of your company. I didn't mean to imply that. I apologize." He let out a sigh and began tugging on his sleeves again, his cheeks slightly pink.

"Severus, I know you would never push me. I won't push you either. If it happens, we'll both be ready; I promise. I trust you."

He let out a relieved breath, and nodded.

"I've only been on a few dates . . . none of them led to a second date, however."

"Oh . . . Well, if you want to, I mean, this could be a second date. Or lead to one, anyway. What I mean is that I'd like to do this again sometime."

His black eyes searched my face, the warmth I rarely saw shining in them. The dim, golden lighting of the restaurant was very kind to his face--made him very becoming. I liked how the green turtle neck softened his complexion a little--made him seem less harsh and rigid. The lighting complimented that. I saw the corner of his mouth lift into a smile, probably because he knew I was staring at him openly in adoration; I didn't conceal the fact I thought he was extremely attractive at the moment. I wanted this moment to last forever, the sweet calmness that filled me when I looked at him across the table from me, us just looking at each other.

"I would very much like to do this again with you, Danielle."

I smiled warmly at him. "Yes . . . Me too."

He nodded, looking away form m for a split second. "I suppose I should escort you back now."

"I guess."

I raised one finger and indicated to our waiter that our dinner was done, and I felt a little let down, because I wanted it to last much longer. Our waiter brought us the receipt, and then left. I didn't think he liked us very much, but I couldn't care less.

Severus reached into his back pocket, then frowned. He reached again, then he brought back his hand, which was empty, and leaned forward, putting his forehead in his palm and letting out a long sigh, his jaw clenched and his face flushed slightly. I realized what had happened, and I couldn't help the smile.

"It seems I've left my wallet at home."

I chuckled quietly and briefly. He was so cute when he was frustrated and nervous. It made me feel much better about myself.

"Excuse me while I go and retrieve it. I shan't take long." He quickly got up and left the restaurant, still holding his forehead in his hand, and I thought I heard him muttering darkly.

I felt a little awkward, sitting there by myself--not because I wondered if they thought badly about me, but because I worried what they thought badly about Severus. A few people whispered and pointed at me, and the waiter was talking to one of his other customers, and I thought I heard him say something about a cradle-robber, and I felt like going over and punching him in the face, but of course I didn't. The waiter was talking to the guy behind the podium thing, too, and they pointed at me and shook their heads. Bastards.

After about a half an hour, Severus returned, striding quickly over to the table, and dropping the tip on it. He then grabbed the receipt, helped me pull the chair out from underneath the table, then went up and paid his bill, my arm looped through his and my head leaning on his arm slightly. I didn't give a crap what they thought--we did nothing wrong.

He opened the passenger door for me and I sat in the seat, putting the seatbelt one. Severus didn't speak the whole ride back, and he kept his eyes on the rode. I noticed that his cheeks were still flushed pink ever so slightly.

When we finally made it to Spinner's End., he quickly got out of the car. I undid my seatbelt, furrowing by brows in thought, then open the car door. It slammed against something and I heard Snape let out a grunt of pain. I looked up and realized that he'd been about to open my door, and I'd opened it and smacked it right into his chest.

"Sorry!" I said, jumping out of the car, looking at him while he rubbed his chest.

I went to reach forward and help him or touch him or something, but then he lifted up both of his hands and shook his head, quickly looking away from me.

"I'm sorry," I repeated weakly.

"I'm perfectly fine," he said, then motioned for me to come into the house.

As soon as the door shut behind us, then he stuck out his arm, and I took it. He Apparated me to Hogsmeade. "I shall escort you to the common room now," he said blandly, and I wondered if he was really that upset about me slamming the door into his chest.

The walk was silent, but he did not let go of my hand the whole way. Our fingers entwined and I kept my shoulder pressed up against his, and I felt like I could hardly believe my luck--I couldn't' believe I had just gone on a date with Severus. Of course, at the moment he was acting very stony, and I wondered if he wasn't nearly as glad as I was . . . I wondered if perhaps he regretted it, or if I'd done something wrong.

When we stood in front of the portrait, Salazar Slytherin shaking his head and rolling his eyes at us, I stood in front of Severus, smiling broadly at him. "Thanks, it was fun," I said, knowing that nothing could have made this night more perfect. "It was perfect."

"Perfect? I highly doubt that. I was a fumbling dunderhead . . . I forgot my wallet, couldn't' start the car, and acted foolishly."

"Yeah? And I smacked the car door into your chest. Still, I loved it either way." I playfully nudged his arm with my hand. His back was facing the portrait, but I was looking right at it. He couldn't see Salazar scowling and turning his nose up at us, acting like we were being idiots.

"I could have been much better," he grumbled.

I shrugged . "I think you were just fine." He still looked somewhat disappointed, and I playfully nudged his arm again. Hey, I know how to cheer you up. How many Snapes does it take to change a light bulb?" He raised an eyebrow at me curiously. "None--he assigns Longbottom a detention and makes him do it."

He chuckled softly and his lips barely lifted into a smile. "Clever."

"I've got another," I said, wanting to prolong this moment. He waited patiently. "How many Harry Potters does it take to change a light bulb?" He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, brushing my hair from my face. "Just one--he holds the bulb and waits for the world to revolve around him."

And then he laughed. Severus Snape laughed. His mouth opened into a wide smile and he let loose a deep laugh that made his wide smile reach his eyes, crinkling the sides a bit. Hearing him laugh was new, and it made me feel pleasantly warm inside.. His whole face lit up when he laughed.

"I like that one," he said after he laughed, the wide grin still plastered on his face.

I nodded at him, the walked past him, towards the portrait. "I'll see you later, Severus," I said, head bowed slightly.

My shoulder bumped his gently when I walked by, and suddenly, he grabbed my arms, spun me so that I faced him, and pulled me into a kiss. Somehow, I wasn't surprised, and I melted right into it, opening my mouth to allow his tongue access, wrapping my arms around the back of my neck.

With each gentle sweep of his tongue against mine, he sent a a tingling sensation down my spine, which spread warmth throughout my body. The kiss was slow and passoinate, and he pulled me tight agaisnt his body, holding me so close to him I felt like we could be one body. Our kiss was slow and deliberate, but I could sense a hunger to it, like he'd been wanting it--needing it--for such a long time he craved it beyond anything else. I moaned slightly, leaning against him, pressing my tongue against his firmly. His lips were soft, unlike the last time we'd kissed, when they'd been somewhat chapped. I could smell his cologne so strongly I swore I could feel it rushing through me, as did the pleasurable sensation I got form how he kissed me, his fist clenching the back of my shirt tightly, my hand going up into his black hair, holding it, running my hands through it, feeling his strands run between my fingers, my fingers caressing his hair like his mouth caressed my mouth.

When we finally pulled away, I could still feel the electricity thrumming through me, the energy, the warmth and contentment . . .

I pulled my hands form his hair--the back of his head was a mess, since I'd been running my fingers through it. I beamed at him, biting my lip through my grin.

"Good night, Danielle," he said, kissed me chastely once more, then stepped back a few times before turning on a heel and walking away, his hands behind his back. I thought I saw him smiling before he turned though. I felt like I could die right then and die with everything in my life complete and perfect, and I would die happy. Not that I wanted to die, of course--I definitely wanted to do that again.

"It's about time our Severus got out," Salazar said when I faced the portrait. He raised an eyebrow at me. "I've been telling the other portraits that for years."

* * *

A/N--I would like to thank Hades' Queen for telling me about ephebophilia, which is the attraction to adololescents. Much thanks to you, it was very helpful, and I did get extra credit for it (bows)

I based this after my first date, which went exactly like this, only there wasn't a kiss at the end, just a hug, but it's a very precious memory to me, so I used it. Obviously Snape reacted slightly different than my date, because my date really wasn't much like him, but the circumstances were. Too bad he dumped me . . . ah well, all good things come to an end.

Thank you for all your supportive reviews, they were very helpful!


	28. Chapter 31

Chapter 31: Pain

Searing, burning pain.

For a few seconds it was all I knew. I didn't know where it came from or how long it had been burning, but it was there. The pain had been sudden and very intense, and located right on my left arm.

I sat up and gasped out in pain, then clasped my hand over my mouth to stop myself from screaming. I finally got out of my bed and hurried out of the dormitory when the burning stopped. "Damn him . . . have school in the morning . . . _some_ of us have _classes_ but does he care? No," I grumbled, running a hand through my dishevelled hair, then rubbed my eyes.

I walked through the dungeons, ignoring the chill that swept along my arms and body. I knocked on Severus' door and began rubbing my arms.

The door opened to reveal a very tired looking Severus, whose eyes were half closed and his hair was stuck up in the back and mouth open slightly. He wasn't really that attractive when tired, but for some reason, I found it cute. He looked me over. "What are you wearing?" he asked me quite sluggishly.

I looked down. I was wearing my ankle-length silky nightdress. Mum might have been shallow, but she never gave me crappy robes, and so I had attractive night clothes. It bared my cleavage slightly. It was a deep red. Normally I didn't look very good in red, because of my red hair, but there was one shade of crimson that I liked. This was it. "Oh, um . . . my nightdress."

He blinked a few times, then looked down at his grey nightshirt. "It's three in the morning, Danielle."

"Oh . . . in that case, happy birthday."

"If this is an attempt to seduce me, let me remind you that we've only been going out for two weeks. I would also prefer to be awake the first time we make love. Go back to bed." He sounded rather irritated. I understood his irritation, of course.

He went to shut the door, but I stepped forward and put my hand on the door, so it wouldn't shut. He opened the door again and looked at me, he jaw clenched slightly. I just showed him my bare arm, the Dark Mark burning black.

"Damn him. Some of us have classes in the morning," he grumbled, walking out into the hall and slamming the door shut. He looked me over. "You're eyes are green again."

My hand went up to my eyes. "Oh, yeah . . . I haven't done the glamour charm yet . . . Does it bug you, because I can do the charm, if you want."

He shook his head. "You could change your name to Lily Evans and I wouldn't care," he said. I chuckled a little bit. Severus furrowed his eyebrows. "Though I wouldn't suggest that you do."

"Wasn't planning on it . . ."

Severus leaned forward and used his hands to flatten my hair, brushing it out of my face and smoothing the back of my head. He ran his finger through my hair, a bit like a comb. When his fingers hit a knot, he untangled it, then ran his fingers through my hair again. "Your roots are showing . . . If you want, I could dye it again, or return it to your original colour."

"I'll think about it," I said, smiling at him, then reached forward and put my hands behind his head, smoothing his hair.

He nodded, then he led me out of the school and across the ground. I regretted forgetting to put on my shoes when the bottom of my feet started to go numb only a few steps into the snow, but I didn't want to turn back. Besides, I could always do a warming charm on my feet. We only had to walk off of school grounds, and then he would Apparate me. Soon I would be able to Apparate myself. Classes were starting soon.

When we got away from school grounds, I held onto Severus' arm and he Apparated me to Malfoy Manor. Or at least, he Apparated me outside of it. Ever since the Dark Lord had started putting his pawns into place, we weren't allowed to directly Apparate into Malfoy Manor, and only those with the Dark Mark could enter without the lengthy process of either breaking ward charms or asking for an appointment. The gates opened for us because we both had dark marks, and I eyes the diamond encrusted windows I had always thought were impressive, although gaudy and pointless.

We entered the manor and went into the drawing room. I suppose most people would have stared at the manor, both inside and out, in awe, but I was used to it by now, and even though the chandelier was amazing, I barely even registered it anymore, except to note that it was there.

Not to my surprise, the Dark Lord was there, sitting at the head of the table. "Ah, I see that you are punctual, as always, Danielle. A good trait . . . Severus, Lucius will send you a message through Floo when it is time to retrieve her. If she is not back before classes tomorrow, then I am sure you have stories prepared for those who ask her whereabouts?"

"Of course, Master."

"Very well. I shall fetch you when I need you."

Severus bow respectively. "Yes, Master." He then turned on his heel and left.

I turned to face the Dark Lord, and bowed for a moment. "Oh, Danielle, I can see your red roots. Have you decided to return to your natural shade? I preferred it much more to this . . . brunette."

I looked at him again. "If you desire it, my lord."

"I do. Severus is your mentor, and I daresay he would be more willing if you continued to look like his supposed great love. Obviously he knows he is far above filth like that, and has moved on. He simply desired her . . . But there was a reason he desired her, Danielle, and your resemblance to her wouldn't hurt. Also, that trusting fool Dumbledore wouldn't ever consider a girl who resembled dear, sweet Lily Potter . . ."

I nodded obediently. "I will change my hair back to red."

"Yes . . . Do you wish to know why I asked your filthy mother to marry that muggle uncle of Lily Potter?"

"Well, she couldn't very well marry a pureblood wizard, could she?"

"Ah, yes, that is part of the reason . . . But I also needed, perhaps, a connection, to them. I knew, for quite awhile, that the Potters would be highly important. I did not know how, of course, not until Severus relayed to me the prophecy . . . And I thought I would want a connection to that family. Harry Potter is merely one step closer to me, because I have you . . . I thought perhaps, if something happened to me that night--if they somehow managed to incapacitate me, not kill me, for they could never kill me--but if I were, ah, indisposed, that Harry Potter would go to you, and you could raise him in our ways--you and your mother . . . Obviously it was merely a plan to fall back on. It would have worked, had I not overlooked the fact that Dumbledore trusts muggles, and sent the boy to live with his muggle aunt and uncle. I had not expected to need another plan, of course--but one must _always_ have something to distract others; another plan, in case the first doesn't work, in case something unfathomable happens." He rolled his wand in his fingers idly, looking at it instead of me. "Luckily, I had several, otherwise I would not be here talking to you now." His red eyes moved from his wand to my eyes, and I knew he was searching for something. I blocked my mind easily.

"Danielle, Lucius here--" he nodded his head to Lucius, who was standing beside him "--is going to take you to another room. There is a man there--a man who Lucius has kept for two days, and tortured him without giving him a reason why. He has not been fed, and has only had a glass of water each day. Veritaserum does not work on him--some can be trained in ways to resist its effects. I need you to get him to answer my question, by any means necessary. I don't want him to die until he answers the question, or until I say it is pointless to continue. By any means necessary, do you understand?"

Of course I understood. He wanted me to torture him. My stomach churned at the thought of it. "Of course, master."

"I need to know how to retrieve the prophecy."

"Yes . . . Master."

"Only a few know of my need to retrieve it--you, because of your relation, Severus, and a few in my inner circle. I thought this an opportune moment to break you into torture. Now, go with Lucius. He will be there to get you anything you need."

I nodded, then followed Lucius. When he took me down some stairs, he stopped right in front of a door.

"Do you need anything?" he asked.

I thought for a second. What would I need for torture? Probably just my wand. Words could not express how much I did not want to torture anyone. My throat was tight and dry, and my skin felt like it was going to crawl right off of my body. The clamminess of my skin must have shown, because Lucius put a hand on my shoulder, almost in a fatherly sort of way. "You're nervous. I can tell."

"Yeah, well . . . Some spells are harder than I thought they would be. You remember how many times it took me to kill my mother," I whispered.

"Yes, but once you can do that spell, you can do anything. I have faith in you."

If it wasn't for the fact he was trying to reassure me that I could torture a man I didn't know, then it might have actually been sweet. All it did was make me sicker, though. "Thank you," I said, feeling bile rise in my throat as I spoke. My hands were shaking.

"After you torture him, I must Obliviate your face from his memory. I will be in the drawing room. He is currently wearing a blindfold, and all he knows is that he has been tortured by a man." He gave my shoulder a squeeze, and smiled a small smile in a way that reminded me so much of Draco it actually made me a little nauseous. I imagined Draco would look very much like his father when he grew up. Lucius had a hard, cold look about him--a look that I did see in Draco, although, at times, I could also see a bit of his mother's caring in his eyes . . . And there was a warmth that Lucius lacked as well . . . But I knew his caring and warmth would fade even more than it already had. "I am very proud of you. Had I a daughter, I would like her very much to be like you. I always had high hopes for you . . . And I like you far more than Pansy. Though I suppose not every girl can have intelligent conversation or a pretty face, but she does dote, and she is a very caring girl, so I can't speak too harshly of her."

"Draco loves her."

"Yes . . . Oddly enough . . . I always thought he had better taste, but I suppose he is not shallow, and I commend him for that. My son has many redeeming qualities, perhaps ones I did not have. I was picky when it came to women, and I am glad of that . . . But I am also glad that Draco has found that appearances can be deceiving. Your mother, for instance--she was a beautiful girl. Shame she was a mudblood. Draco looks beyond that . . . Something I could never do . . . I dated a few women I am not proud of before I met Narcissa. Her sister, for example--had I been more like Draco, I would not have wasted six months on her. She's a bitch, see."

I nodded. Lucius tended to drone on and get off topic at times. I think it was because he had it in his head that everything he said was so important it didn't need to follow a topic.

"Yes, Danielle . . . I like you very much. I know you can do this, and there is no need to be nervous. I can only hope that one day Draco will be able to share this honour. Now, I believe you had a prior arrangement?"

I nodded, my head feeling oddly stiff and heavy as I did so. I had to swallow a lump in my throat. All the swallowing did was make the urge to vomit more prominent. Lucius removed his hand, nodded at me, then walked off in the other direction. I faced the door and felt cold chills travel along my skin and I shivered, although it really had nothing to do with the cold. I ran my hand through my brunette hair, knowing that I would have to return it to its original red, and rubbed my eyes.

I let out a shaky breath, and wondered if there was anyway I could somehow get a hold of Severus and ask him what I should. Should I torture him and get him to answer my question? What should I do? What would help the side of the war I was really on? How could I torture someone? I had only killed one person, and what if torture was harder? At least I didn't have to kill anyone . . . torture couldn't be as ahrd as that, right?

I pushed the door open, and immediately stepped into the damp, cold air of the hidden room Lucius had led me to. I had never known of its existence before now, but it was obvious it was used to hide dark objects and potions and prisoners. Dread filled me as did the cold, and when I stepped on the stone with my bare feet, slick with dew, I wished I had gotten dressed before showing. I swallowed again, my dry throat tightening, then I shut the door behind me.

There was a man tied to a chair, with a blindfold over his eyes. His back was facing the door, so I could see the knot of the blindfold on the back of his head, and how his wrists were raw from the ropes, having been tied behind his back.

"You're back again . . ." he noted, voice shaking with fear.

I walked over to him, standing in front of him, taking in a deep, shaky breath before exhaling. I just had to get the information right, by using any means necessary? I didn't have to torture him . . . did I?

I took off the blindfold. His dull grey eyes looked at me, and took in every inch of my body. His jaw was shaking and his chest was rising in short, quick breaths. "You're not who was here before. He was a man; he sounded like a man, anyway . . . Who are you?"

"That's not important," I said, being quiet. I knew I had to act like I was in charge, like I didn't care about his well-being, but considering the fact he was a human I was about to torture for a cause I was only pretending to believe in, I found it really hard at the moment.

"Are you . . . with them?"

I didn't say anything. I couldn't talk. My throat was too dry all of a sudden. How could I get someone to tell me how to retrieve a prophecy.

"Are you here to take me back home?" he asked a bit more hopefully.

I stood there for a second, just looking at him. He was an all right looking guy, in a your-dad's-a-good-looking-man sort of way. I could tell by the way his eyes met mine when he asked me if I was going to take him home that he was frightened by my answer. He already knew that I wasn't.

I smiled at him, trying to push the nausea that was starting to mount into the pit of my stomach. All I had to do was torture him. It wasn't like I had to kill him, right? And Lucius would Obliviate him, and send him home, and everything would be fine . . . He would live . . . And it was just how to _retrieve_ the prophecy; it wasn't like the Dark Lord could just walk right into the ministry and grab it anyway . . . But he could get others to do it for him. But the prophecy couldn't really do any harm to Harry, could it?

Oh, God, I wish there was some way I could contact Severus or Dumbledore and ask what to do. But I couldn't--not without raising suspicion.

I had no choice.

"Are you going to take me home?" he asked again, more urgently, a crack in his voice, his eyes shining with tears.

I smirked at him, and looked him over. I just had to pretend that he was . . . fake. I was acting, and I wasn't really hurting him. He was just a cotton dummy to practice spells on. He wasn't real. My heart thumped in my chest quicker, but I managed to shove my fear and disgust into the pit of my stomach. He wasn't anything. He wasn't important. He was scum.

"Well it depends on if you answer my question," I whispered, tilting my head to the side. My voice was full of confidence. My insides were not. The chills swept over me again, nauseating and dizzying and cold. The dampness of the cellar/prison thickened. "Now . . . how do you retrieve a prophecy? I know that you know how."

His mouth worked like a fish for a few seconds, then he looked downward. "You work for him."

I smacked him across the face, although I will admit I could have smacked him much harder. "Answer my question," I ordered. I hoped that he would answer me and I would be able to go back to bed.

"I refuse to," he said.

Oh, damn him.

"You'll tell me by the time we get to know each other," I promised, and I raised my wand. "Crucio!" I shouted. I watched as he thrashed on the chair, screaming out, pain making him forget manliness. His screams were high and screechy. My hand shook while I watched as he thrashed, letting out sobs in between his cries.

But at least I wasn't' killing him. The longer I tortured him, the longer he stayed alive . . . If he answered me, he would go home. Torture meant life. It was the only thing that made me able to torture him--but I was still sick to my stomach while I watched his back arch and his mouth open wide in a scream.

I lowered my wand. He let out a gasp and shuddered, then looked at me. "You can kill me if you like, but you won't ever . . . I will never tell you how to please your master."

"I'm not going to kill you," I promised, and I felt my voice crack and my eyes burn.

He stared at me and narrowed his eyes.

"Crucio!" I shouted, watching him thrash again, and scream and cry out.

I lowered my wand and he stared back at me, body shaking, skin pale and sweaty. "I can torture you for days. You're not going to die--you're going to tell me how to get a prophecy. I need to know how to get one. You know; I know you do. Just tell me, and you can go home."

"You can't kill me . . . I have the power in this situation, don't I?"

I smacked him across the face again, knowing I could do so much more to hurt him, but I couldn't really bring myself to crucio him again--I hated his screaming. It made me want to vomit. Even though my body was cold and clammy, it felt like I had a fever.

"There are others in the ministry I could grab. If my master tells me it is pointless to continue, I will kill you. Don't you understand? Eventually this will result in your death, after long hours of torture. If you tell me how to get it, you can go home. Think it through," I said very carefully, staring directly into his eyes. I wanted this to end quickly. "So, just answer me, and end this. You've been through two days of torture--what I can do is much worse than what the previous guy did."

He stared into my eyes again, a somewhat curious expression on his face. He opened his mouth, hope in his eyes, and I knew that he was going to tell me. Then he looked away for a second, then looked back. "I can't. And I refuse."

I clenched my jaw together and closed my eyes. The tiredness was overwhelming at that point, and I felt like just curling up in the corner and sleeping.

I pointed my wand at his chest and stared into his eyes. "Fine. We'll see if you change your mind later then." Even I could hear the disappointment in my voice. "Sectumsempra," I murmured.

A long gash appeared across his chest, blood splattering his robes, while he gasped out in pain.

"Sectumsempra," I repeated, and another gash went across his chest, making an X. More blood spilled over his robes, and he hissed. I watched him sit there for a moment, waiting until I was sure that the sting had worn off, then I healed his wounds. I healed him because I felt bad. He looked at me strangely, but I ignored him.

* * *

Around lunch, my own stomach was growling, and my eyes burned with exhaustion. I kept cutting him and shooting crucio at him--I even made his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth, hit him with charms to make him extremely cold, then other spells to make him extremely hot. His screams were starting to get hoarse, and his eyes were always getting wet and he would breathe heavily and make little sobbing noises, but he would not tell me how to retrieve the prophecy. I was angry, and hungry, and tired, and I hated torturing him. It was noon, and I had tortured him, taunted him, teased, mocked, and begged him to tell me for hours, and I was sick of it. I wanted to throw up and take a long, hot bath. Just looking at him made me feel dirty, because I was putting him through torture. I don't know how he held out as long as he did. Even though I kept healing his cuts and bruises, he looked haggard and tired and miserable.

Lucius brought me a plate of food an a glass of water. I sat down in front of him and started eating, waiting for Lucius to leave .I didn't' want him to see me act like a monster, even though that was what he wanted, I'm sure.

"Don't you want to go home?" I asked while I shovelled my potatoes into my mouth.

He made a weird grunting noise, and I saw him starting at my plate, and his Adam's apple bobbed. I followed his gaze. I had a meat pie on my plate. I finished my mashed potatoes, and ate half of my corn, then went over to the guy and started feeding him, sine his hands were tied behind his back. He sniffed my food suspiciously, the ate the food hungrily off of my fork while I fed him.

After he finished all the food on my plate, I held the glass of water to his mouth and let him drink my water, only leaving a swallow or so for myself. He kept his eyes on me the whole time, waiting for something--probably for me to smash the glass against his face.

I considered it. I even pulled my hand back, holding the glass in my fist tightly. He flinched, then I shook my head and put it beside me. I sat, legs folded, in front of him. I stared at him.

"Please, let me go," He begged quietly.

I sighed, then looked at the floor. "I told you--if you would cooperate, I would let you go home. But you won't do what I say, so I can't. You don't even listen to me--I've told you that my master will eventually kill you, without the knowledge, if you don't tell me eventually. I'm starting to think you don't care about going home."

"Of course I do! I have a little girl, and a wife. They're probably worried sick by now . . ."

I looked up at him. A family? I swallowed the bile that rose into my throat. I was torturing a father and a husband. I never had a father . . . And I was taking a father away from a little girl.

He stared at me, then furrowed his eyebrows. "You're not like the other one."

"Obviously, I'm female," I said, pretending I didn't know what he was talking about. I'd realized the mistakes I made by being sympathetic much earlier, but I pretended like he didn't notice them.

"You know what I mean. How old are you, anyway?"

"Sixteen."

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named wouldn't allow someone of your age into his inner circle," eh stated haughtily, straightening his posture and working his wrists, although the ropes were binding and he would not be able to break free.

"And what do you know about what the Dark Lord would or would not do? Nothing. You guys are busy telling us that he's not even back, so how the hell can you even talk about knowing what he does? That's exactly what he wants, by the way--you all to keep telling everyone he isn't here. And pretending like you know what you're talking about when you don't. I'm sixteen. Believe it."

"You don't really like torturing me," he pointed out cockily.

He looked at him, and focused on his dim eyes. "Yeah? Well, it's better than killing you. I could torture you for weeks, because that would mean you're still alive. I don't like killing people. Maybe torturing you is worse, but at least you're alive. Maybe I'm just not strong enough to kill you . . . Well, not strong enough to like it. I killed my own mother. Obviously I'm capable."

He glared at me for a few moments, obviously disgusted. After a minute or so, he tried to hide his disgust, but he failed. He wasn't a very good occlumens. "You could let me go. Come on. I know you want to."

"And I know you're just being nice because you're trying to trick me. I'm a Slytherin--I know all the manipulative tricks." His mouth fell open and he gaped at me.

I sighed, grabbed the glass, and smashed it against the side of his face. The glass digging into his soft, pale fleshed, blood spurting from the small wounds, made me somewhat nauseous--not because seeing blood made me queasy, but because I caused it.

He cried out, then I plucked each shard from his face, his blood staining my fingers .I focused on that rather than the noises he was making. I swayed and felt my stomach churn while I dug into his flesh and grabbed the little glass shards.

When I thought I'd grabbed the last one, I healed the side of his face, then used sectumsempra to slice both of his inner thighs, I let him cry out and gasp for a few moments before I healed them, too.

I stared into his eyes, and he kept his mouth shut. "Tell me, and you can go home. Nobody will have to know it was you who said anything. Come on--just go home, okay? Go back to your normal life, and just tell me. I don't like doing this ,and I would appreciate it if you'd let me stop. Or do you want to go the same way as the Longbottoms?"

He closed his eyes tightly and turned his head away.

Anger filled me. If he would just tell me, I could go back to the school, and take a bath, and stop this bullocks, and he could go home and take care of his little girl. I wanted this all to be a dream, and for me to wake up, but he wouldn't let me. So I smacked him, hard this time, then punched him in eth gut. He doubled over and grunted in pain, before I began punching his face, over and over again, harder each time.

I grabbed a fistful of his hair and forced his head back, leaning over him so I could stare into his eyes. "You would rather let your family be without you than tell me how to get the prophecy, is that it?"

"No . . . but I can't tell you . . . It's for the greater good . . . Thousands of people's lives are more important than mine . . ."

I let go of his hair, then smacked him again. I realized there were tears in my eyes. There were red swollen area on his face where I'd punched him, and his lip was bleeding. "Really? Thousands of lives? It's just a prophecy--and it's not about how to kill anyone, or anything! It's just so the Dark Lord can understand why a bloody baby managed to knock him into nothing but energy! Is that really more important than your life? It's not going to kill thousands of people! It's a damn prophecy that'll just tell the Dark Lord what has already happened or at least what will happen no matter what he does anyway! You selfish bastard! You are just going to sit there and let your family go without you to show off the fact you can take a few hits! You kid needs a dad! You ass hole! You're just going to sit there and die to prove a damn point instead of being a dad like you should be!" I punched him again, and he spat blood onto the floor.

He clenched his jaw shut and stared defiantly at me.

"Sectumsempra!" I shouted, and blood gushed down his chest.

"I won't tell you!" he gasped.

"Crucio! "I shouted. He thrashed about, screaming, crying, blood flicking off of his wound. My hand shook with disgust and anger. Why did he have to be so stubborn? Couldn't he just give up already?

When I lowered my wand, he sat there, head bowed, and I healed the cuts on his chest. I grabbed his head and stared into his eyes, searching for a memory . . .

I saw flashed of a little girl who resembled him, playing with him, reading books, laughing with a woman who was obviously his wife, family outings . . . I memorized the curves of the child's face, the golden curls that hung past her cheeks, and the sparkling bleu eyes, and her laugh . . . I saw his little girl, singing into a microphone, her voice resonant and loud and beautiful, even for a little girl's . . . I remembered his wife's long legs, and the half-smile she always did when they looked at each other . . .

I realized that he had no idea I'd just invaded his memories.

"You think we're going to stop with you? You think we won't slaughter your wife, probably in front of you? Some Death Eater will rape her, right in front of you. He'll run his hand up her smooth, long legs, and thrust his finger inside her, and make her feel good all while she hates him, and wants to pull away, but she won't be able to. That won't be the only thing he shoves in there, either, and he'll make you watch while she screams from him to stop, while he claims her, and rapes her, and then he'll kill her, slowly, in front of you. You want that to happen?"

His dim eyes flickered for a second, and he paled even more. My stomach churned and my hands shook while I clenched his hair. I was closer to his face than most people would like. I was invading his space, making him uncomfortable. Every time he fidgeted, I yanked his hair, and felt my skin crawl and my throat tightened.

"He'll like her hair--it's still blonde, even though she says she sees grey hairs. He'll sniff her hair while she cried and while he forces himself on her, and you won't be able to do a thing 'cause you'll be stuck in this chair, and you were too much of a stubborn git to tell us the prophecy, so we will do it. If you'd tell us, we wouldn't have to. But now, showing off you can take this torture means more to you than your wife. Guess what? That prophecy isn't protecting anybody. You're threatening lives, and I just want to know how to get it. But no, while we wait for you to open your mouth, your wife begs for you to return home, then cries out when the Death Eaters force her here, and rape her, and torture her, and kill her in front of you."

He clenched his teeth together, but I saw tears stream down his face. I yanked his hair when he fidgeted in the chair. I stayed leaning above him. I tried not to picture what I was saying to him, but I couldn't help it, and it made my muscles tense and my breath quicken. I wanted to die. Why did he have to be such a git? I just wanted to send him home . . . And we could Obliviate all this from his mind, and there would be no guilt . . .

"Will you be able to look at her the same, if they let her live--which is doubtful--knowing a Death Eater was inside her? Of course you will--it wasn't consensual, it was rape, and you'll tell the minister, and they'll laugh you off and tell you the Dark Lord isn't back, and call you crazy. But you'll love her the same, and look at her as you always have, and ignore the fact that someone else knows how she smells, how she feels . . . But will she be able to look at herself? Well, that is, if they let her live, which they won't."

I was breathing quickly, trying to stay calm and confident, but I was making myself sick. I didn't want to talk about rape. Rape was the worst crime anyone could ever commit and so I didn't want to talk about it. But I hoped it would end this torture bit. Maybe it was selfish of me, but I just wanted to stop torturing him, and to stop listening to him cry out in pain. I wanted him to go home to his wife and little girl.

He still wouldn't say anything, but his eyes were swimming with tears.

"And your daughter . . . with her blonde curls and blue eyes . . . and her little mouth . . ." I wanted to kill myself. I did not want to talk about anything bad happening to a little child. The small bit of food I'd shared with him was starting to find its way back into my throat, and I didn't know if I'd be able to keep it down for much longer. "She signs really well. Why, I bet she even screams on key . . ." He swallowed and looked at me with betrayal and his bottom lips quivered. "How long do you think it would take for them to break her? And how long do you think she'll be able to scream without going hoarse? Soon, she won't be able to scream at all, just sob, and he voice won't be any louder than a whisper, throat ragged and raw, while they torture, and they . . . They kill her, in front of you. Oh, they'll do that slowly, and relish it, and laugh, while you watch the blood rush along her fair skin, and mix with her golden hair, and he blue eyes will stare at you, and she'll beg for you to make it stop, but you won't hear her, because she screamed her throat raw--"

"STOP! NO!" he shouted, his baritone loud and tears erupting from his eyes.

"Then tell me! "I shouted, pulling head down so fast and hard it smacked the back of the chair and made a thunking sound.

"Okay! Okay! Please! Don't hurt them, oh God! I'll tell you!"

I stepped away form him, watching him breath and sob. I swayed from the dizziness and nausea, trying to force the images I'd painted out of my head. A cold sweat covered my body and I had to swallow the bile that rose into my throat. I watched him sob. The only time I'd ever seen a man cry was when Severus trashed his room, and he told me about his mother dying, while he sat with his back against his desk. That was nothing compared the wailing issuing form this man, whose name I did not know . . . I just realized I didn't even know what he did.

"You--The prophecy--it--you--" He stuttered, taking in gulps of air and crying simultaneously. "Only--the prophecy can only--only be taken by someone whose--who the prophecy is about. Only those mentioned in it--only those who the prophecy is about--can take it--take it--off of the shelf. Please don't hurt them." He took in a steadying breath, tars streaming down his face.

Even though I was disgusted with myself, a felt a sudden rush of glee. I let out a long sigh and smiled at him. "Thank you! You can home now--I've just gotta get someone, and he'll Obliviate you so you probably won't even remember the torture, or at least my face, I don't know, then we'll probably send you on your way home, and you can be with your family, okay?" I went over and squeezed his shoulder. "You did the right thing--even if some people would say you didn't ,I say you did. You won't remember me, though, and you won't remember this--I just thought a little comfort now would help."

"Why are you even helping him?" he asked in a tearful voice.

I opened my mouth, but I couldn't think of a believable, short lie at the moment, so I just left hurriedly and fetched Lucius, and told him I knew the answer.

He untied the guy and practically dragged him to the throne of the Dark Lord, where I stood beside him, although ha bit behind the man I tortured, so I didn't have to see his slightly bruised face.

The Dark Lord looked him over, then his red eyes found mine. "I expected this to take more than a day for you. I suppose torture must be your forte." I really hoped that didn't give him any ideas. I didn't think I could stomach more torture, in fact, I still felt like I was going to throw up.

"Only those the prophecy is about can take the prophecy itself," I stated loudly and proudly, wondering when Lucius was going to Obliviate the guy.

"Very well . . . You may go home now," the Dark Lord said, eyeing the man I tortured, waving him off as if he was a bothersome servant of some sort.

The guy stood there for a second, apparently stunned. Then he turned around ,a smile on his face, a sparkle in his eyes, and began hurriedly walking towards the door to the Manor. His happy expression obviously came form him knowing he was about to see his family. I turned my back on the Dark Lord to watch him leave.

"Avada Kedavra!" the Dark Lord shouted.

The man was completely enveloped in green, and he fell to the floor, dead.

My back was facing the Dark Lord, which was a good thing because then he didn't' see my face fall and the fact I opened my mouth to shout out, but hastily closed it. My heart stopped beating and I blinked back a few tears before turning to face him.

"His family is already dead. Tragically, they were all killed in a terrible mugging, and the little girl ended up with her throat slit," he aired with an ironic smile on his face. Lucius laughed a mirthless laugh, and I chuckled to, albeit half-heartedly.

I imagined that poor little girl clutching her throat, blood rushing through her fingers, while her mother cried for her daughter, only to be killed herself, Death Eaters in masks surrounding them . . . I felt dirtier than I had before.

"We have nothing to worry about--they'll never know it was us," he promised, voice smooth and cold. I blocked my mind so he couldn't tell what I was truly feeling, how I hated him and how I was disgusted with myself, and how my mind wouldn't comprehend that I had just tortured a poor man. I smiled at him, but it was extremely hard to do. "Now, Lucius . . . Go and fetch Severus. He has a student missing."

* * *

A/N--sorry about the late update, I really do try to update more, but I spent this week at my mother's house, because it was thanksgiving weekend.

Originally this chapter was longer, but I edited it because I thought it was too graphic for a T rating. If parts of it was too graphic for you, I apologize, but I really tried to tone it down.


	29. Chapter 32

Chapter 32: Returning

When I woke up, I had no idea where I was. I was on a bed, that much was certain, and the room looked vaguely familiar--like I had seen it a long time but couldn't quite remember when--but I still didn't know what was going on. It certainly wasn't Draco's room, that was certain.

Apparently, when Lucius had contacted Severus, lunch had just ended, and he had to wait until after classes to get me, so I'd just gone into Draco's room and decided to take a nap. It felt awkward, being in Draco's room without him, but I wasn't about to sleep anywhere else. I had thought that my racing thoughts would prevent me from sleeping, but I was out the second my head hit the pillow.

Of course, I had expected to wake up in Draco's large, comforting bed wrapped up in his expensive comforter. I did not expect to wake up in some place I didn't recognize.

I slowly sat up and looked around. For some weird reason, panic filled me. I wrapped my arms around myself and felt my breath quicken. Why would I be in someone else's room? Did the Dark Lord kidnap me, or Lucius, or someone? If they kidnapped me, wouldn't they tie me up at least?

I got out of the bed and looked around. Where had I seen this room before? There was something so familiar about it . . .

I walked over to the door and opened it cautiously, taking in one last look of the bedroom. There weren't any decorations, and thought the bed was big enough for two people, there was only one pillow. The bed was actually quite comfortable though. There was a bedside lamp on, but nothing else, so the room was quite dark.

I opened the door and stepped out quietly, hoping that I could leave without anyone catching me, and maybe find my way back to Hogwarts or at least somewhere I actually knew.

When I turned around, I noticed somebody was in the room with me and I jumped, the sudden appearance of someone shocking me. When I realized it was Severus, I sighed in relief. He looked at me with his eyebrow raised. "Are you quite all right?" he asked me.

"Huh?"

"You shrieked."

Had I shrieked? In my memory, I had only jumped. "No I didn't."

"I suppose it must have been my imagination then, since I have such an active one."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. He just smirked at me. "So . . . Where am I?"

"My quarters," eh answered simply, then returned to correcting essays on his table. I watched as he marked something down on a piece of parchment. "You've been here before."

I stood there for a second, racking my brains. "Oh . . . Yeah, I remember now."

There was a reason we both remained silent about why I'd been here before. Severus had held me against his chest and called me Lily, and I didn't want to bring it up, and I was sure he didn't either.

"I didn't have the heart to wake you. I imagine today was very tiring."

I nodded. "Yeah . . . Did they tell you?"

"They told me you did very well. The Dark Lord is certain torture is your talent. He will likely compare you to Bellatrix." I shifted uncomfortably when he turned his focus from the essays to me. "You do realize that to torture information form someone usually takes much longer than it took you, especially since it was your first time? He worked for the ministry. You are a quick learner, but not that quick in most subjects. Lest you forget, it took a long while for you to learn how to do a patronus, and you didn't pick up on Occlumency quickly either. Why was this easy for you to catch on to?"

I looked down at the floor. It didn't seem like a short while to me, but I guess if someone worked at the ministry and knew about all the important things, they would probably be taught how to withstand torture. I felt tears prickle my eyes, then I looked back at him. "It's just . . . I'm not strong enough to kill them . . . It's like I think if I am torturing them, at least they're alive . . ."

Severus frowned at me. "Most that are good in torture enjoy it to prolong pain, because they believe killing is so merciful. It's odd to hear to hear you say that. What did you do to make him speak?"

"I said they would rape and kill his family in front of him. I, uh . . . I knew what they looked like, because I searched for his memories." He nodded a few times, still looking at me. I wondered if he was disgusted with me, as I was disgusted with myself. I closed my eyes, trying to hold back my tears. It seemed like I cried around Severus too much. I suppose I was just a cry baby. "I explained his wife's rape. And then I . . . I told him that I bet his little girl even screamed on key . . ."

When I opened my eyes, I noticed Severus looked rather disturbed. "You . . . said that?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. I . . . I thought he would live, if I got him to talk . . . I just didn't' want him to die, and I wanted it to get over with. His daughter was a good singer . . . So I just . . . I feel sick just thinking about what I told him."

Severus frowned slightly. "I imagine you do."

We both were quiet for quite awhile after that, and I folded my arms. I could go on and on about horrible I felt ,and cry into his chest, and explain all of the guilt that was filling me. I could tell him how horrible it was, torturing him, and how I felt like I was going to puke, and how wrong it was of me to say those things about his family. But the truth was, I didn't want to. I didn't want to talk about it, and I was sure he didn't want to hear about it. I was sure Severus had been forced to do horrible things in his past, and I was sure he understood enough without me having to relive it.

"So . . . How did I get here?" I asked, although the answer was a bit obvious. I just wanted to change the subject.

The change of subject did not appear to bug Severus. In fact, he returned to correcting essays, and I thought I saw him let out a sigh of relief. "When I came to pick you up, the Dark Lord told me of your success, and how to retrieve a prophecy. Lucius led me to Draco's room. I picked you up and Apparated you to Hogsmeade, then took you here. I told Dumbledore what happened, and that the Dark Lord knows how to retrieve the prophecy."

"Oh. I would have got a hold of Dumbledore, but I couldn't, not without, you know, revealing myself. I just . . . I don't know what type of information I'm allowed to give the Dark Lord."

"You did well. I would not worry." He looked away form his essays and regarded me. "The Dark Lord told me that he would prefer your hair to be red. I have made a potion that will return your hair to its natural colour."

I nodded. "Oh . . . Okay . . ."

Severus stood up from the table and went over to a counter, which held a medium-sized bottle full of a crimson potion. He walked over to me and handed it over. Whe nI took it form him, our fingers touched, and a shock of warmth went up my arm. Surprisingly, he still had the ability to do that, even though we'd been going out since Christmas, and it was his birthday. "Thanks for making this for me."

He nodded once, then retracted his hand.

"I have your birthday gift in the dormitory," I told him.

He held the side of my face, black eyes searching mine. He leaned down and kissed me gently, then brushed my hair from my eyes. I smiled at him, feeling warmth spread through me. Just kissing him made me feel so much better. "You are an amazing woman, Danielle," he said. I don't really know why he did, though.

"You are, too," I said, smiling at him. He raised an eyebrow at me, and I chuckled. "Not a _woman, _obviously."

He kissed me again, although this time for a bit longer, and I leaned against him, giving into the feel of his lips against mine.

When he pulled away, he held the side of my head for a moment, before pulling his hand away. "I guess I'll just go get Draco to put this in my hair, then." I would have asked Pansy, except for we were going through a not-talking-to-each-other phase again. We went through phases where we tolerated each other, then ignored each other. There was the brief insulting each other phase every now and then, but they didn't last very long because it irritated Draco, and neither of us wanted to irritate Draco. "Thanks, again. It was sweet of you." I leaned up and kissed him quickly on the mouth, then went to walk past him.

He stood in front of me, preventing me from moving onward. "Perhaps, if you are comfortable, I could do that instead of Draco?"

I smiled at him. "Of course I'm comfortable."

* * *

I used to always wonder why women always liked to have people wash their hair for them in movies. I never really understood how it was romantic, considering the only person who ever did anything to my hair besides myself was my mother when I was little, and Pansy when I'd dyed my hair. Both of them had tugged and did it carelessly. When Severus massaged the dye-removing potion into my hair, I understood exactly what was supposed to be romantic about it.

His long fingers threaded through my hair carefully, pressing into my scalp and massaging the potion into my hair. I ignored the fact I was sitting on the toilet while he leaned above me in his bathroom. Sitting on a toilet was not romantic, but having him run his hands through my shoulder-length hair felt romantic. Staring up into his face while he looked down on mine, that felt romantic. So I finally understood what it was like to have his hands running through my hair, pressing into my scalp, covering each inch with the potion he lathered into his hands.

When he finished, he leaned back, and looked me over. "Red does look better on you. I'm no expert in style, so I couldn't explain why, but it does. However, I doubt the Dark Lord wants your hair red for style purposes."

"He likes that I look like Lily. I think he wants it because he'll think it'll keep you loyal or something. He says he wants me looking like her so you'll be a good mentor. Or something. The only reason my mum even married my dad was so he would have a connection to the Potters, or so we would raise him, in case something happened to him the night he decided to go after them. He mentioned something about having back up plans, but he didn't really tell me what they were."

He nodded slowly, folding his arms against his chest, his black hair hanging in front of his black eyes. "Yes, I imagine the Dark Lord does have many plans to fall back on, in case he ever fails. That is why it is difficult to fight against him. Dumbledore also has many plans and schemes, which is why the Dark Lord has never defeated him. They are quite similar, with the exception of morality, obviously."

I didn't really understand his logic in saying Dumbledore was like the Dark Lord, but I suppose they both were good at making plans. I also didn't understand why Severus called him a meddling fool, which he did sometimes, but I didn't know him as much as Severus did.

"Can you remember what life was like before? You know, back when we didn't like each other?" I asked suddenly.

He smiled thinly. "Yes. You didn't talk to anybody with the exception of me, and only to argue with me. You didn't respond to my orders, and had an obvious lack of respect for me. You could have made many friends, I often watched others approach you, but you always ignored them. You only spoke with Draco over the summer, which he told me you were always different then--much like you are now. You were also easily irritated."

"God, I was a bitch, wasn't I?"

"You were afraid of trust, Danielle. It's understandable. Your mother killed your father in front of you when you two. She neglected you, and lied to you constantly. Obviously you did not trust her, nor did you trust anyone she associated with--which is probably why you never wished to be a Death Eater. You automatically compared Death Eaters to liars. You were afraid to make friends, and the fact I looked at you strangely made you feel uncomfortable, because you were not used to attention, since your mother neglected you, and killed the one person who ever cared."

I furrowed my eyebrows at him, and tilted my head. I remembered being that way, and I certainly didn't like thinking about it. I'd been a little prat, hadn't I? At least now I had friends. Well, not a lot, but enough. I had acquaintances. "You're good at that. You know, psychology."

"My father sent me to a psychologist. When he said my problems came from my mother, she called him a quack, and said that I was fine, and got into an argument with my father. I wanted to know what a true psychologist would have said, and I studied up a bit."

"Well? What do you think you would have said to yourself?"

"That my problems came from my father, if I had to pick one sole figure. There are many contributing factors to why I am the way that I am, and rather than try and change myself, I accepted it. I will never be normal, I suppose, nor do I want to be. I like who I am. There are far more important qualities in myself I focus on, rather than the ones that are constantly pointed out to me--my appearance, for example. Lily was my friend because of who I was--my personality did not push her away--becoming a Death Eater did. If I was good enough for her, then I have nothing to change. I can atone for my past, not for my personality.

"There is nothing wrong with me, except for poor decision skills. Everybody has flaws. Rather than try to perfect myself, I accepted that. I find that I don't rather like psychologists. They are fine for those who have obvious mental illnesses, but those are the only people who should go to psychologists. I don't like being told I need to change, and that there is something wrong with me. I think we should accept ourselves for who we are instead of trying to change and fit someone else's ideal of normal. I have no mental problems. I stopped studying psychology after I came to that conclusion."

I blinked a few times. I had a hard time imagining Severus opening up to a stranger being paid to try and fix his brain, even if he only did it once. "Oh. Well, I think you're fine the way you are."

"As do I."

I fidgeted on the toilet seat. "So . . . When did our relationship change? I mean, we didn't even talk to each other, except for arguing . . . Not even in detention. Not back then. So what happened?"

"You were kind to me," he admitted, looking away from me. "You left your wand in my room, and saw me upset over Mother's death. Rather than walk away and pretend you hadn't seen anything, or be cruel, you comforted me. Just as Lily would have. I stopped viewing you as the dunderhead who resembled someone you did not deserve to look like, and as . . . someone who did. That was the moment everything changed. Had you not done that, I would not have followed you out of the Quidditch match to explain my Dark Mark, I would not have saved you from the Dementors, nor brought you here, to my quarters. I would not have begun to see you in a new light. Just one moment of kindness, Danielle, that was all it took." He finally stopped looking at the floor, and caught my eyes with his. "Why were you kind to me? Was there any reason at all?"

"Guilt, I guess. I felt bad for . . . For seeing your Dark Mark. I thought that was why you trashed your room. And then, uh, when you told me your mother died, I felt even guiltier, because I think I insulted her earlier than day. Also, I wondered what you would think if you knew I'd just walked off after seeing you like that. I'd asked why you hated me earlier than day, before I saw your Mark, and you said you didn't hate me, then we sort of had a conversation, and I told you I always felt bad because of how you were treated. I just felt guilty because I knew what you went through at Hogwarts, and because I thought it was my fault. If you hadn't have seen me, I probably would have walked off and got my wand later."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "Imagine how differently our lives would have been had you walked away. I never would have been able to see you as someone other than Lily. Then again . . . You never would have been forced to torture innocent men, either."

"I would have become a Death Eater, or I would have been killed. I still would have thought you were a Death Eater, and my mum still would have had a connection. I like where my life is. I like being with you. I love you, remember?"

He smiled at me, then lowered his gaze to the floor.

"The potion works faster than muggle products. I believe now would be a good time to remove it."

I nodded and stood up off of the toilet, then went over to the sink. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, at my hair piled on top of my head, shining with the potion, and watched as Severus came up behind me. Looking at our reflection together made me feel peaceful, and I was glad I was with him. He had a way of taking my mind off of horrible things. It was almost like I hadn't tortured that guy. Almost.

I turned on the water to the sink, waiting for it to be at my temperature preference, then leaned over and stuck my head under the faucet., using my hand to shake out the potion, watching it drain down the sink. His hands slid into my hair and began massaging the dye out, fingers slipping through my wet strands, wrist brushing the back of my neck. I let him wash the dye out of my hair and closed my eyes, relishing the feel of the hot water and his hands running over my scalp.

After a few minutes, the water was clear, and he turned off the faucet for me. He performed a drying charm on my hair before I stood up. I looked at myself in the mirror, at Severus standing behind me, and my heart sank ever so slightly. I looked older than I had the last time I had red hair, which was barely a few months ago.

Perhaps it was because I'd grown accustomed to my brunette hair and blue eyes and had forgotten what it was like to have green eyes and red hair, but I thought I looked even more like Lily than I had. Severus looked a bit dazed as well, and I knew it was because I suddenly looked like her again . . . Even though we had similar features, so it wasn't like I looked completely different from her with different hair and eye colour, changing my hair and eyes back to normal was a bit daunting.

"Wow. I forgot how I looked."

"So did I."

Seeing us together in the reflection somehow reminded me of the one picture he'd given to me for my birthday, when they were with her family. I blinked and turned away from the mirror, feeling guilty for looking like her, and awkward. Even though I knew he saw me as someone else, there had to be times he would see her. I actually liked looking different and being with Severus, because then I knew who he thought of. I didn't want to share, not that I thought anything would change.

When I turned away form the mirror, I found myself looking into Severus' chest. He didn't move away from me. I looked up at him and his eyes met mine. "So . . . back to how I used to be. I hope it doesn't, uh, bug you."

He held my chin with his forefinger, and titled my head up. "You shouldn't worry, Danielle. I still see you. I'm _with you,_ not her. Understand?"

I nodded.

He kissed me, and I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck, while he pressed me against the sink, the cold porcelain a little uncomfortable against my back, but I didn't care, because my mouth was on his, and his hands were slipping back into my red hair. Our tongues went into their usual playful dance, and I moaned against him quietly. The warm tingling feelign travelled throughout my body as we kissed, and I held him even closer, needing him against me. He had always been good with kissing, but it seemed to get better each time. Hopefully I had gotten better, too.

He pulled away, then pressed his forehead against mine. "Now. I believe you said something about having my birthday present?"

I chuckled and smiled at him. "Greedy much?"

* * *

A/N--originally this chapter was one big sob fest, and Dani vomited into the toilet. But it was complete shite, and they were both so out of character my head hurt, so I wrote a completely different chapter instead. The only thign in that chapter I even liked was that Snape held her hair back while he puked. Seriously, I didn't even realize just how much of a character Dani was until I wrote her being out of character. God, and if I had turned in the original chapter, you all would have hunted me down and strangled me for canon-raping Snape.

There was a part in my original chapter that Snape called her Lily again (the hair dyeing scene was in that chap as well) and she ran crying form him and made out with Draco, and both Pansy and Snape caught them. Snape got mad and asked he why she did that, and she told him it was because he called her Lily, and he told her to grow up. I didn't even mention how Pansy reacted, or why the hell Draco even made out with Dani. Yeah, This all happened within an hour of her torturing that guy. It was too rushed. I don't know why I thought it was a good idea.

Anyway, thank you for continuing to read my fic. For those of you who have reviewed, I thank you as well. I appreciate your reviews so very much. Also, I DO accept anonymous reviews, so if you haven't been reviewing in fear I would not accept it, never fear! There is no such thing as too many reviews.

I hope this chapter lightened the darkness cast by my previous chapter. I am currently writing a novel with a lot of torture scenes in it, and it is definitely not rated T, so i apologize if I overdid it, but I really did try to tone it down. Anyway, I wanted to make this chapter a bit happier than the last (hence, me wondering why the f--k my original chap was such shite.)


	30. Chapter 33

Chapter 33: Flirty

"Ta-da!" I sang, then pulled my hands out from behind my back. I held a book that I'd seen Severus eyeing in Diagon Alley, that one time he took me there for potions ingredients. I tossed my red-again hair over my shoulder.

He eyed the book curiously, then slowly took it from my hands. It was a black book, and in gold lettering across the cover read: _Banning Creation--A Look On the Ministry's Attempt To Take Away Imagination._ It didn't really sound like an interesting read to me--I was more into fiction than politics. If I wanted to read politics, I'd get the newspaper. But Severus stared at it with a thin smile, and I could tell he was pleased.

"I've wanted this . . . for quite some time . . ." He ran his fingers across it. "It is quite expensive, and I needed to use my money on more important things--ingredients, for example--and the ministry pulled it off the shelf before I could save enough . . ."

"I saw you eyeing it . . . You know, that time that you took me to Diagon Alley. When you weren't looking, I bought it. I was hoping you wouldn't get a chance to. I just used the money I was supposed to buy robes with, but I have enough of those, so . . ." I shrugged.

"Obviously I would be interested in spells that are created by amateurs being banned, but the fact you noticed and kept this for so long . . ." He ran his hand over the cover again. "It is much appreciated."

I noticed, for the first time, than he rarely--if ever--said 'thank you' and I had never heard him say 'you're welcome' either--he just nodded once. I suppose most people might be offended, but I wasn't--it was just something I noticed, and added to puzzle of Severus Snape.

"You're welcome, Sev," I said, smiling at his warm face.

His warm expression faltered, and he stared at me like he'd been slapped. He tucked his book under his arm and looked away from me, as if I'd said something inappropriate.

"Is everything all right?"

"Of course," he muttered, then went to leave. Why had his attitude changed so quickly? Why was he leaving? Before he got too far, though, he turned back around, and looked me over. "Danielle, I . . . I'm sorry."

Sorry? What was he sorry for? He hadn't done anything wrong! "What for?"

He shook his head slightly. He opened his mouth to say something, then he reconsidered. He turned around and walked away.

I thought for a few seconds after he shut the portrait behind him, trying to think of what I may have said to offend him. I realized I had called him Sev--it had just slipped out--and perhaps he wasn't a nickname type of guy.

* * *

We were at Grimmauld Place, each of us sitting around the kitchen table while Dumbledore spoke. At the moment, he wasn't talking about anything important--everyone was just chatting around a meal Molly Weasley had made us. We weren't talking about the war or about the dangers--just talking. It was actually a bit nice. I was, of course, sitting beside Severus, who was sitting across from Sirius--not that either of them wanted to, it just happened to be the only seats left.

Sirius was sitting in his chair, leaning back so that his weight rested on the hind legs, and he put his hands behind his head. He didn't look very happy--in fact, he looked rather miserable. His ruggedly handsome face was paler than when I had last saw him, and his dark eyes lacked a warmth I remembered him having.

I didn't mean to stare at him, but I was. His eye moved over and found mine. He smiled a charming smile at me and winked, and I saw the mischievous glimmer in his eye return. It was strange--he hadn't been at all involved in the discussion earlier, and seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, but now he was focusing on me.

I smiled back at him politely, feeling slightly embarrassed he'd caught me staring at him. I wondered why he seemed so depressed, but he didn't seem to be anymore, so maybe he was just bored.

Severus put his hand on my knee, and I felt the heat of his palm through my robes. I glanced up at Severus--he was looking at everyone at the dining table, following the proceedings normally, as if he wasn't doing anything at all. Looking at him, no one would know he was putting his hand on my knee.

He started dragging his fingers over my knee slowly and gently, as is petting a kitten absent-mindedly. Small bits of warmth shot up my leg, sending shivers up my spine. As retaliation, I put my hand somewhere between his knee and thigh, and started drawing random symbols with the tips of my finger. I couldn't hide the smile on my face, although I tried to.

I honestly tried to pay attention to what Dumbledore was saying, even though it wasn't about the war. But it was so boring, and having Severus play with my knee and me drawing circles through his robes was definitely _not_ boring. The heat of the kitchen was almost unbearable, and the only sound I could really hear was the blood in my veins rushing past my ear.

His long forefinger was trailing up my thigh, then stopped at a respectable distance before making its way back down to my knee. It tickled, and shot pleasure right in between my legs. It was amazing how hot his touch seemed to be through my robes, even though he was barely touching me. I could only hope I was instilling the same feeling in him when I ran my fingers over his thigh gently.

We sat there for quite a long time, all words lost to me, while he stroked my thigh gently. I found that I was tickling on my inner thigh (his fingers did tread there, but always at a respectful distance, although it somehow affected the area he stayed away from, throbbing with each second) while he alternated between running the side of his pinky across my knee, or drawing something with the tip of his index finger.

I copied his movements with my own fingers, sliding close to his inner thigh, feeling his muscles tense in his leg when I smooth my finger over certain spots in his legs which, judging by how her arched his back slightly and how he would bite his lip, he liked. We played a little game with each other, whether or not we meant to or not. I would copy each movement he did for awhile, and then he would copy me. He was gentle and caressing with his hands, so I tried to be the same, and the temperature rose just as much as my want of him did.

"Severus?" Dumbledore said suddenly, and his hand stopped moving.

"Yes?"

"How are your lessons with Harry going? I think we'd all like to know."

He slowly retracted his hand from my leg and I did the same, knowing I had a smile on my face.

Severus began to tell everyone how well Harry was doing (or how horribly he was doing, technically) and explained that he didn't even believe that the boy was putting forth effort, nor practicing. I'd heard him complain about teaching him Occlumency several time at that point, so I could pay attention easily while I stared at Sirius, who was looking at me with a handsome smirk that I recognized immediately--Draco had it too. It wasn't the cocky smirk, although I knew Sirius could do that too, but the flirtatious one--the one Draco gave me when he was trying to charm me into doing something for him, or when we were play-flirting. It was odd seeing it on Sirius, almost like it didn't' belong, although it was extremely handsome on him. Sirius was a good-looking man.

When he caught me looking at him again, me basically a little startled at how much Draco I could see in him (the confidence and the smile, mostly) he grinned .I recognized that grin right away, too. Draco's mouth must come from the Black side of his family.

He winked at me.

I shook my head, a little dazed. It was weird. I think Sirius was playing some sort of game with me, like he was trying to keep himself from getting bored. He kept shooting nasty looks at Severus each time he said something particularly rude about Harry, and Severus kept giving him dirty looks back, which everybody decided to pretend they didn't see.

Although Severus was still talking (this time about how the Dark Lord was planning on getting into the ministry, and how he was planning on taking in more ministry workers for torture until he learned the inner workings of the place) he confidently held my hand, underneath the table of course where no one could see.

I resisted the urge to put my head on his shoulder.

Next, Dumbledore asked for me to update him on anything new I had to share. I explained how the Dark Lord was planning to recruit young people, and that I was supposed to keep a watch on Harry. I decided that I didn't need to mention I was his second cousin, but I didn't lie about it either. Obviously Sirius and Lupin knew, since they were at my parents' wedding, but it wasn't like I wanted to go bragging about me being related to the boy I was supposed to pretend to hate. It made me feel strange. I was just supposed to tell the Dark Lord if I noticed anything interesting about him; if he had any friends I could turn against him, or anyone besides his two obvious best buddies the Dark Lord should know about. Like a girlfriend, for instance.

It was all very important stuff. I knew that it was, but at the moment, it wasn't nearly as interesting as me holding Severus' hand, or the fact that our knees were touching, and he kept moving his leg up and down, so that our knees were rubbing together, or the fact that I was wrapping my foot around his ankle.

After that, their discussions of things unrelated to the war started again, and I smiled warmly while Severus and I continued to flirt right under their noses. Well, perhaps not Dumbledore's nose (I was sure he probably knew) but as far as anyone else was concerned, we were.

When the meeting was over, Severus stood up and Dumbledore came over to his side ."Severus, I need to speak with you for a moment," he said, giving him an urgent look. He smiled kindly at me. "Excuse us. It won't take long--I know how Severus is your ride to and from Hogwarts. Not for long though, hmm?" He smiled knowingly at me, then both him and Severus walked out of the dining room, Molly fussing about something as she followed them out.

Lupin and Sirius were the only ones in the room with me. "Well, you certainly have grown, Danielle. You're very brave. I can't imagine what you must being going through--and at a young age, too. Not saying that being young means you're incapable, of course not. Keeping an eye out for Harry does seem like a good idea, though . . . You should watch out for him."

"Aw, come on, Moony, give the boy a break. I'm sure he can handle life just fine without us old berks hanging over his shoulder all the time. Besides, I gave him my mirror--anything happens, I'll be the first to know. Especially with Snivellus breathing down his neck."

"His name is Severus," I snapped, glaring at him

"She is right, you know, Sirius--I believe we're getting a bit old for childish name calling."

"Come on, you don't actually believe all that spy bullocks he's spouting off, do you?"

"I'm a spy--what do you think about me, then?" I growled, folding my arms.

Sirius regarded me with a raised an eyebrow at me. "What you did was different. You went in as a spy. Old Snivelly there claims he switched sides."

"Severus," I corrected again, although it was obviously a lost cause. "And I trust him, and so does Dumbledore."

Lupin nodded, a weary look on his already weary face. "Yes, she's right, Sirius--if Dumbledore has a reason to trust him, then I trust him. He made my potion for me. And obviously, if he was a spy, he would have turned in Danielle. He treats her very well."

"We both know why he treats her well, Remus, and his loyalty has nothing to do with it," Sirius snapped, finally resting the chair on all four legs.

"Sirius--" Lupin began tentatively.

"Well? You know I'm right." Sirius looked me over, and then he smirked, just like Draco always did. "Lily's your first cousin."

"Yeah, I know, Sev told me," I informed tersely.

They both looked at each other and I realized my slip of tongue. I don't know why, but it just seemed to fit him perfectly. I hadn't gotten the chance to talk to him about my nickname, and how it had obviously upset him.

"He taught me Occlumency. We got onto first name basis. It's not a big deal."

"Point is, Snape liked Lily, and then he called her--"

"He taught me Occlumency, and so, Sirius, I had to go into his mind and see some of his memories. I probably know a bit more about it than you do. Look, I'm in a highly dangerous position, it's stressful enough as it is, I don't need you telling me you don't trust him--unlike you, Sirius, I actually have to be around him, and put my life in his hands."

Sirius began to rise, and Lupin put his head in his hands, exasperated .Sirius leaned on the table, putting his hands on the top of it. "What exactly are you implying? I am not a coward--I would gladly switch you places, but I can't, because the last I checked, I'm still a wanted man. There is nothing about this arrangement I'm in that I like. I don't want to sit back. I want to be out there, so don't you ever imply that I like being useless again, do you hear me?"

"I didn't say you were, Sirius. I just said I don't like you saying stuff like that when I have to be around him all the time. I know you'd rather be out there doing stuff. My mum talked about you all the time--you don't sound like the type to just sit back, okay? I wasn't implying anything."

He stared at me for a few moments, then nodded. "You know, you're almost nothing like your mum. Got a bit of her temper, though, from what I hear. And how's your duelling gotten? Better than last time, I hope."

"Yeah, I'm definitely better. Why? You wanna have a go?" I asked with a smile, pulling out my wand and winking.

"Anytime, Dani," he said, whipping out his wand with Draco's grin on his face. I blinked a few times. He reminded me of a good-natured, attractive Draco--like if Draco wasn't a Death Eater. It was creepy. He tilted his head to the side. "Is something wrong? Afraid I'm gonna bite? Don't worry--I've only done that a few times, and I swear I was going for Peter the last time. Nearly took off Ron's leg, but hey, I'm not a dog. No worries. Just don't put your hand too close to my mouth."

"No, you just remind me of Draco is all."

Sirius lowered his wand slightly. "What? How?" He acted like it was an insult. Well, okay, I guess from his point of view, it was.

"Oh, I didn't mean it in a bad way--he's a friend." They both looked at me strangely, like I'd said something extremely inappropriate. "Well, sort of . . . Well, you have the same mouth, and he calls me Dani. He's not so bad once . . . Well, if you get on his good side. If Draco wasn't such a prat, I mean. You're both confident, and good-looking."

"Oh, are you asking me out on a date? Well, then, no time like the present!" he joked, stuffing his wand away and winking at me.

"Sorry, I'm taken."

Sirius covered his heart with both of his hands, smiling at me in that charming way of his that made me feel a twinge of something familiar in my chest area. "Oh, you heartbreaker, you! Who dares steal you from me?"

"Er . . ." I scratched the back of my head, and felt my cheeks burn slightly when I noticed them both staring at me. "This is just role-play, right?"

Sirius let out a bark of laughter, then shook his head. He hopped onto the dining table and walked over to the other side and hopped down next to me, looping my arm through his. "Oh, Dani, trust me, I know you were just kidding around. You think I didn't see you smiling at me and blushing the whole meeting? No need to be embarrassed. I've captured many a heart in my day."

I pulled away from him, so that we were no longer holding arms. "Maybe I was smiling at Lupin. I had a crush on him my whole fourth year, you know." I smirked at him cockily, tossing my red hair over my shoulder.

Lupin looked stunned. "Oh . . . You hid it quite well."

I turned to him and shrugged. "Well, I didn't want you to know, did I? Why do you think I felt so betrayed when you read that letter?" Lupin nodded, then I turned back to Sirius. "So maybe you misunderstood entirely." It wasn't completely a lie. I'd been flirting with Severus and not him.

"Well, sorry Moony, but all is fair in love and war." He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me to his chest, chuckling the whole time. "And I'm stealing her from you."

Lupin sighed and shook his head, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling.

He waggled his eyebrows at me, grinning mischievously. Draco, Draco, Draco. God, it was so creepy--was this what Severus felt whenever he looked at me? Damn that mouth of his! And that confident attitude!

"Let me go, you fiend!" I gasped melodramatically, raising the back of my hand to my forehead. Perhaps it was because he reminded me of my 'best' friend, but I seemed to automatically slip into my playful side. It had been awhile since Draco and I played around.

"I'll show you fiend, my love!" He then dipped me in a dramatic fashion, like we were in the middle of dancing.

"Oh, no! However will I resist your devilish charms? Gods help me!"

"No one can help you," he growled, then bent down and pretended to bite my neck. I could feel him smiling against my flesh.

"Oh, change me into a creature of the night, my love! Take me away from all this misery and death!" I cried through my giggles. It felt so liberating to act this way. I had been so serious lately.

He pulled away from my neck. "Oh, my love, my mate . . . I could never hurt you." He raised an eyebrow at me. "But I am so damn hungry . . . And you know what we vampires eat." And he buried his mouth in my neck again, still dipping me, growling into my jugular, though he was laughing as well.

The doors opened suddenly. My heart leapt into my throat when Sirius looked up from my neck suddenly, his mouth swollen slightly and moist since he'd been pretending to bite me. I don't' know how I knew who'd walked into the door, but I did.

"What is this?" Severus demanded from behind me.

"Why, we're snogging, ever heard of it?" Sirius replied smoothly.

"WHAT?" Severus demanded.

For some reason, Sirius dropped me, and I fell to my back, losing all of my breath and smacking the back of my head. I didn't know why he dropped me for a second, until I saw Sirius standing above me with his wand out.

I gulped for air, trying to speak.

"What's the matter, Snape? Gotta case of jealousy? Seeing someone other than Dani in my arms there?"

"I see a man taking advantage of a girl, that's what I see. Of course, I wouldn't put it past a felon like you," Severus growled.

Sirius laughed, but it was without humour. "I wasn't taking advantage of her at all. It was completely consensual. Of course, what would you know about snogging girls? Emily hardly counts." I was in the process of standing up, but when I heard that, I froze. I had been about to tell them to quit arguing, but the words didn't fall out of my mouth. "And what we were doing is nothing compared to what you imagine doing to little Miss Lily-look-alike, is it?"

Severus raised his wand above his head, his mouth open.

"We were just playing. He was a vampire," I blurted finally, over the shock of hearing my mother's name and snogging in the same sentence in regards to my boyfriend.

Severus looked at me, and sought my eyes. After a few seconds of me knowing exactly what he was doing, he stuffed his wand back in his robes. He looked livid. I felt a deep shame start to build up in my chest. I had been acting childish, and Severus was obviously upset that I'd been acting that way with Sirius.

"Severus, Danielle is safe with us just as she is with you. Sirius would never harm her, and even if he would, I would not let him."

"Because you've never let him get away with harming others, have you?" Severus spat, glaring directly at him.

Whatever it was Severus was talking about, Lupin seemed to catch on quickly, and he looked away in shame, as if he had done something wrong.

"I never harmed anybody who didn't deserve it, Snivellus. Let's see if you can say the same."

"How can you harm anybody if you won't set foot out of your sanctuary?" He returned his glare back to Sirius, face changing a slight colour of red that I knew too well. I recognized that glare in his eyes, too. "We're leaving. Now," he ordered, still glaring at Sirius.

I nodded, lowered my head guiltily, then walked past Sirius in shame. I felt guilty. It felt like I had done something horribly wrong, like flirt with Sirius, but I hadn't meant for it to be that way. He reminded me so much of Draco, and I had missed acting like a fool since I'd been so serious lately. That wasn't flirting, was it? And I hadn't planned it or anything and it wasn't like we kissed, either. So why did I feel so bad? Was it because I was acting inappropriately? I was being childish, in a time when I was supposed to be mature. And what was Sirius doing? He was a grown man . . . But was it so wrong to play around every once and awhile?

As soon as the kitchen door shut behind us, I turned to him and started explaining myself. Before I could even get a single word out, he grabbed my arm and pulled me into a rough, hungry kiss. I jumped, shocked. The kiss was completely unexpected--but it was damn good. With only a second wasted on confusion, I attacked him mouth just as fiercely, and wrapped my arms around him tightly, moaning into his mouth.

He backed me into a wall roughly, but it barely even registered in my mind as we kept kissing, tongues battling for dominance, his hands snaking into my hair, running through my strands while he pressed his body against me, kissing me passionately.

My hands went up into his hair, me loving the feel of his stands against the flesh of my palm, feeling the hot, intense throbbing of want and he moaned into my mouth and pressed against me more firmly. I arched against him, wanting out bodies to collide, become one, just be against the other.

"I thought you were mad," I managed through his kisses, which came down upon my mouth repeatedly and fiercely.

"Oh, I am," I said, before bringing in my bottom lip into his mouth, clutching onto me like he was afraid I'd fall away from him. "Black wouldn't keep his eyes off of you during the meeting . . ." he mumbled, pressing his lisp against mine while he spoke, his hot words fanning across my face.

"I don't want him," I promised, in between fast, hard kisses.

"I know," he said, pulling away and pressing his forehead against mine, still running his hands through my hair, while I did the same to him. "Seeing you with him, in that position . . ."

"We were just playing, I swear," I promised, breathing harder than necessary, wanting him to continue kissing.

"I know where your love lies," he said in a low voice, then he pressed his lips against mine and I leaned into it, my back arching off of the wall and pressing my chest against his more. I was hot, my body thrumming with want, needing him against me, touching me, kissing me . . .

He pressed hot kisses down my jaw line until his mouth was near my ear. "Attractive Sirius Black wants you . . . and you don't want him," he whispered, his voice thrumming through me.

I doubted Sirius was really that interested in me. I doubted I was more to him than another Order member, and I was sure he was just charming all the time. But I wasn't about to contradict him; not when he was kissing me like this.

"I love you, not him--never him," I swore, and then his teeth found the flesh of my neck, and he brought them down on it. It was like a sudden burst of pleasure erupted when he did that, and I gasped out and arched my back against, clutching him nearer.

Apparently, I _really_ liked that.

He brought in my flesh and began to nibble it, suck it, drag his teeth across it, each time giving me a wave of pleasure and I pulled his body harder against mine, while I gasped. He made a low humming noise and I clutched onto the back of his robes, the he leaned up and found my mouth again, his kisses hotter, but less harsh.

Finally, when he pulled away, me feeling suddenly exhausted, I gazed into his eyes and found myself almost breathless. He pulled away from me, but his hand was still up in my hair, and my hands were around his back, although the back of his hair was messed up because I'd run my hands through it. Our clothes were a little wrinkled and out of place, and his mouth was slightly swollen with kisses, as I was sure mine was. It was obvious what we were doing.

"Well, that was intense," I said, raising an eyebrow. "I thought I was gonna get lectured."

"Perhaps that _was_ your lecture. Misbehave again, and I'll have to remind you of it."

He was in a frisky mood, wasn't he? Well, as frisky as he gets. And I couldn't miss his arrogant mood if I'd tried to. He knew I was in love with him--and he was proud of it, too.

"Remind me to misbehave more often," I said.

He kissed me again, this time softly, mouths embracing slowly, tongues meeting gently. It was a sweet, romantic kiss he usually gave me before we parted.

Then the kitchen door opened, and we heard Lupin immediately stop saying whatever it was he'd been saying.

He pulled his head away from mine and we looked at them. Sirius and Lupin had identical expression etched on their faces. Both had their mouths parted slightly and widened. They were frozen, just staring at us.

They looked at us, in a close embrace, and we looked at them, their mouths parted slightly in shock. I would have shoved away from Severus, but my back was against the wall, and he was paralyzed for some reason unbeknownst to me, but moving away at this point would have been pointless .It was obvious as to what we'd been doing, and it was obvious they knew.

At that moment, Dumbledore came around the corner, humming something merrily until he stopped and looked between us all. "Well. It seems that we have a problem here," he said, somewhat in an irritated voice.

"Damn right! They were snogging!" Sirius informed.

Dumbledore walked right up to us, and fingered a tear in the wallpaper. "Hmm, we're going to have to fix this wallpaper. It was such a nice pattern, too."

* * *

A/N--I'd like to give out a special thanks to hermionestargazer, for her intuitive look into Dani's character, and another thanks for all of those who review.


	31. Chapter 34

Chapter 34: Explanations

Severus finally stepped away from me and put his hands behind his back. He looked at Lupin and Sirius with a stony expression--it was almost like he was daring them to say something.

I just stood there, my head lowered and my cheeks burning. I didn't want to look at them anymore--I didn't ant to see their expressions of shock. Dumbledore knowing was one thing because I knew he was okay with it. Having Lupin, a former professor and crush, and Sirius, both of whom Severus was not very fond of, catch us snogging was a completely different story. What we were doing was technically illegal--he was not only my professor, but old enough to be my father and I was not yet an adult. And they were staring openly at us, Sirius obviously outraged and Lupin looking stunned, both probably disgusted.

I knew that I shouldn't care what they thought. I knew that I shouldn't be embarrassed. Btu I was. I did care what they think--they thought Severus was a cradle-robber, a paedophile (well, technically ephebophile, which he wasn't--he didn't have a condition, it was just me) or just using me because I looked like Lily. I didn't want them to think less of him. I knew that Severus didn't like either of them, and I definitely knew that Sirius didn't like Severus, and I didn't know if Lupin liked him or not, but I knew that they weren't thinking very pleasant things about him at the moment. I shouldn't care. But I did.

"My wallpaper? That's the problem? No, didn't you hear me? They're snogging. I saw them kissing!" Sirius exclaimed, looking between us and Dumbledore.

"I know very well what they were doing. I don't why there should be a problem," Dumbledore said with a smile.

"You don't? He's . . . a grown man, and she's not even of age yet! And you can't tell me you don't see the similarity between her and Lily! Do you honestly think he really cares for her when she--"

"That's enough, Sirius," Dumbledore said, his voice raised slightly, a bit curtly. Sirius looked like he was about to continue, but he decided against it, and closed his mouth. "Danielle is old enough to make her own decisions, and I consider her very much an adult. Severus is capable of distinguishing the difference between her and Lily just as well as you can distinguish the difference between Harry and James--if not more so. I trust them both just as I trust you, and I expect that to be enough."

Sirius pursed his lips together and scowled slightly, obviously angry that Dumbledore wasn't taking what he said seriously. Lupin nodded and I saw his stunned expression melt into a sort of (I'm sure forced) indifference.

"Now, I expect you two to act as adults, and not as children. And yes, I know the ministry would frown on it, but I don't care--I frown on the ministry on certain points. That is why I must ask you not to tell anyone about this. It could cause unnecessary drama, something I'm sure we all have enough of." He stared at both of them, and it was clear by his expression that this was not open for discussion. He turned towards us, bleu eyes resting on Severus' stony expression, and then on me. I knew my cheeks were pink. Embarrassment made my cheeks burn, and I wanted to floor to just swallow me up and take me anywhere but here. "And I must ask you two to be more careful where you display your affections. Imagine the embarrassment it would have caused if Molly or Minerva had caught you. I'll meet you two back at the school." He nodded at us, then left Grimmauld Place.

Severus and I stood in front of Sirius and Lupin. Finally Sirius scoffed. "I don't care what Dumbledore says, that's just unnatural! She's too young for you!"

"Sirius," Lupin began, his tone quiet, but serious.

"What? Look at her! She's far too young for--"

"Sirius, considering what you were doing with her in the kitchen, I doubt you have any room to criticize Severus. Dumbledore trusts Severus, and Danielle is old enough to make her own decisions."

Severus looked taken aback for a moment at Lupin sticking up for him, but then he smirked. "What was it you two were doing? Ah, yes, _snogging,_ I believe is what you told me. Then again, I suppose you've always been a hypocrite--preaching bravery, and staying holed up in here all day long." One side of his mouth lifted up in a smirk.

Sirius looked rather offended by what Severus had said. I would have normally felt bad for Sirius if not for the fact he was disgusted by my relationship. Still, Severus did sometimes aim to hurt with his words. I knew that from personal experience. It wasn't like Sirius really could actually leave, so I did feel bad for him, but it wasn't like Sirius never said anything uncalled for either. To be honest, they both dished it out. I couldn't stick up for either one, because they both did it. It was like smacking one kid for smoking, but not smacking his twin brother.

They were very similar, but at the same time, a bit different. Sometimes I thought the only reason Sirius and Draco were any different than Severus was that they had loving families . . . And money. And looks. Wait, when did I start thinking of Draco as good looking? Normally he was pale and pointed to me . . . Well, he wasn't that bad, I guess.

"Yes, I'm the coward, Snivellus. I'm the coward who pined over one girl for years and never said anything, and had to resort to Emily."

Severus stiffened slightly, and I saw him glance at me, as if to explain something, but then he glared back at Sirius. That was the second time I'd heard Sirius mentioned Severus kissing my mother.

"And I'm the one with the girlfriend," Severus stated acidly. I couldn't help but grin. Girlfriend. He called me his girlfriend. "In case you hadn't noticed, Black, but she did not respond to your flirting."

"We were just playing around," I informed again, not wanting Severus to get the wrong idea.

Lupin looked at me strangely, like he was about to say something to me, then he just shook his head and kept his mouth shut for a few seconds. Finally, he took a breath. "Perhaps we should leave, Sirius? I'm sure they have something to do."

"Go on, go have a good shag then. But when you turn out to be Voldemort's man, I'm sure Danielle will need someone to cry on, and I will make sure you find out who it is." He glared at Severus, the spun around and stormed into the kitchen in a far more dramatic fashion than what was necessary.

Lupin looked between us, then tilted his head. "So . . . this is a personal question, and I'll understand if you don't want to answer it, but . . . How does the age difference affect your relationship? I merely ask for, ah, hypothetical reasons, of course."

"I don't think it really affects anything," I answered, because it looked like Severus was going to yell.

He nodded, apparently deep in thought. "It's never awkward?"

"Why should it be?" snapped Severus, glaring at him.

"No reason, of course, merely hypothetical questions . . . And, er, how is the . . . More intimate aspects?"

"Um . . . We haven't had sex, if that's what your asking. Obviously the kissing is going great. Why are you asking?" It didn't seem to me like eh was asking hypothetical question.

My eyes found his and I started to look inside his mind, but before I could really figure anything out, he realized what I was doing and looked away. "Merely hypothetical, like I said. Of course, I should have realized sooner you two were together--she called you Sev. Good day, to the both of you." He nodded at us, then swept into the kitchen, although in a perfectly normal way. Sirius was far more dramatic than Lupin.

Severus and I stood in the hallway for a moment. Finally, he looped his arm through mine ,and Apparated me to Hogsmeade. It was chilly, but thankfully I was wearing my cloak, so it wasn't too bothersome. I looked around at the white powdery snow that covered the ground, and at the whiteish-grey sky, and breathed in the scent of winter. I smiled, then held onto his arm tighter, pressing my head against his shoulder.

"I only kissed her once," he stated rather suddenly, and at first, I didn't know what he was talking about.

I realized that he must have been talking about my mother, and I smirked. "I don't care. It was a long time ago. Plus, my mother was a very beautiful woman--you have nothing to be ashamed about. Really."

"I focus on more important qualities than looks, Danielle," he murmured as we began to walk. I nodded against his arm, smiling.

Honestly, I wasn't jealous, and he didn't need to explain anything to me. The past was the past, and she was dead anyway. Of course, it was somewhat . . . creepy, knowing that my mouth had been on someone's mouth that had been on my mother's. But he had told me once he'd heavy kissed before, so it wasn't like I expected him to have never kissed anyone. Not to mention the fact I already knew he had loved before, and still loved Lily, and would never love me as much as he loved her. That bit did make me slightly jealous, though. Not that I could rally do anything about it, so I tried not to think about it too much.

"Well, I . . . well, sort of suspected that there might have been something between you. I know she had a crush on you, and, um, on my birthday, you made a comment about never giving her something she didn't want, or something."

"It was her birthday when I kissed her," he informed, holding me closer. I didn't know if he knew he pulled me closer to him or not, or if it was just instinctual because he was cold. I wouldn't complain either way. "I had passed a note to Lily during Potions . . . I was trying to apologize to her. I hadn't meant to call her a . . ."

He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to.

"Lily confronted me after class, and told me to stop writing her; that she was finished with me until I realized the path I was heading down wasn't the right one. Such a fool I was . . . It thought it would impress her . . . I became resentful; angry that she wasn't angry with me, and I threw the letter at her feet. I was hurt . . . And it was your mother's birthday, and I suppose I . . . I kissed her. Of course, the next day, I felt guilty about it--I loved Lily, not her, and I felt as though I betrayed Lily for kissing your mother. I found her and tried to explain that the kiss meant nothing; that I had been weak, that I didn't want to be with her. Apparently Lily had confronted her about her muggle parentage, trying to be reassuring and kind . . . Your mother thought telling me what she'd called her would have impressed me to win her back. And so, obviously, our relationship--for lack of a better term--did not last long. I only kissed her once."

I chuckled a little bit. He didn't need to explain himself to me. "Well, I'm sorta glad it didn't work out between you and my mum. Can you imagine it if you were my father?"

"And why is that such a horrible idea? You think I would be a horrible father?" he snapped, glaring at me, clearly affronted.

"No, I'm sure you'd be a great father. But if you were my dad, I'd be incest."

He chuckled very quietly, then leaned down and kissed the top of my head. "That may be the oddest compliment I've ever received."

"Sirius told me the end of this story, though. Him and James walked around the corner to see you arguing about her using that word. They went to back her up, but you cut her sleeve, and they saw the Dark Mark."

"I thought perhaps you would be . . . Disturbed at the fact I'd kissed your mother. At least jealous."

"Did you want me to be? Some guys think jealousy shows love."

"Jealousy shows mistrust."

"Well, I guess it's a good thing I trust you then, because that just proves I love you."

"Of course . . . Some jealousy would not be offensive . . ."

I raised my eyebrow at him and smirked. "Oh really? Well, in that case, you're a cad, and I'm not going to speak to you until you make up to me. I am ever so jealous."

He just shook his head in mock-exasperation. "It is I who should be jealous. You _were_--snogging, I believe the word was--with Sirius. Whilst going out with me. That, I believe, is called infidelity."

I let out a laugh and looked up into his smiling-ever-so-slightly face. "Can you ever forgive me, Sev?" I asked innocently, widening my eyes.

His face faltered, and he looked away from me.

We walked in awkward silence for a few moments, him not holding onto me as tightly as before. I looked away, realizing I had once against called him the nickname he'd obviously not liked.

"I'm sorry. I don't' mean it in a bad way--I know that your, uh, experience with nicknames wasn't good, but I mean it in the most endearing way possible. I won't say it again," I mumbled, thinking suddenly of how Sirius constantly called him Snivelly or Snivellus.

He was quiet for a moment, then he pulled me closer again. "It's not that, Danielle." I waited for him to explain, but after a few moments of him keeping his mouth shut, I realized he wasn't going to tell me why it bothered him. "But I must insist you call me Severus, and not . . . that nickname."

I wondered why, but I knew that unless he wanted to tell me, he wouldn't, and it was stupid for me to push it. "All right," I agreed.

* * *

Prince curled around my fingers. He had just had a shedding (his second one) and so he was practically zooming around my fingers, probably feeling so much better now that his dry skin wasn't confining him. At least I imagine it that way. I was in the Slytherin common room on the floor, beside the fire. It was cold in the dungeons, plus the golden light of the fire playing on Prince's skin was pretty cool to look at.

I felt warm hands on my shoulder. Nobody was in the common room expect me, so at first it surprised me and I almost screamed, but then I relaxed when I realized it must be Severus. I leaned back a bit and made a small humming noise.

He began to massage my shoulders gently, although not as sensually as I would have hoped. After a few seconds of him working my muscles, I felt him drop to his knees and trail the tip of one of his fingers down my spine, which tickled .I giggled and arched my back, already feeling the warmth he instilled in me start to build.

I leaned my head back, so it rested on his collarbone, closing my eyes as he began to massage my shoulders again, gently , but almost in a detached way, like it wasn't anything sexual. Still, it felt really nice. It worked out my muscles, of course, and released tension, but it seemed so distant. I rolled my shoulders against his chest and moaned a little to show that I really liked it, closing my eyes while I kept the back of my head against his collarbone.

The massaging suddenly stopped, though his hands stayed on my shoulders. Feeling a little worried that he had stopped massaging my shoulders, I opened my eyes.

Draco Malfoy's head loomed over mine, brows furrowed and grey eyes narrowed in confusion.

I practically leapt away form his chest, feeling a sudden urge to gag, although I didn't. I went from feeling warm and pleasant to embarrassed and awkward. I had moaned. Draco had massaged my shoulders, and I had moaned. Pleasurably. He was a friend, yeah, but it still made me feel a little nauseous. I didn't think of him like that.

"You expecting someone else, Dani?"

"No," I lied, then looked back at Prince while he curled up in my palm and lied very still. Maybe he was sleeping. Did snakes have eyelids?

"Uh-huh . . ." he murmured, obviously not believing me, but he shrugged it off and sat next to me anyway, his sleek blonde hair shining in the firelight. He continued to stare at the fire.

After a few moments of awkward silence, I cleared my throat. "So . . . what are you up to?"

"I was just hanging out with Nott. It's nice to have someone with intelligence hanging around me every once in awhile. Someone male, anyway. We all know you aren't thick. But you're a girl, and Pansy gets jealous. We think that Potter is up to something. Him and his boot-licking friends."

"They probably are," I muttered, staring at my snake's black eyes. I still felt embarrassed about liking Draco's hands on me.

"Anything new with you?" he asked me, finally turning to regard me.

"Not really, no."

He smirked at me in a way that reminded me of Sirius. They had the same mouth. And they were both slightly attractive. Well, Sirius was really good-looking, but Draco wasn't too bad. He was pale, and slightly angular, but not too bad. "Liked my shoulder massage, huh? Thought you were about to scream in orgasmic pleasure, the way you moaned."

"It felt good, okay? You're the one who started massaging me."

"In a friendly way. You didn't react friendly. A bit too friendly, maybe. Not in a way Pansy would like to see. You know what I think?"

I sighed and looked away from him, staring at the fire this time. "What do you think?" I asked, knowing I was blushing.

"I think you're harbouring a crush on me. "I scoffed and rolled my eyes, although I couldn't help the smile. He was so full of himself at times, so I wondered if he actually thought I liked him, or if he was just joking. "I know, I know--it must be hard, having to resist my charms and looks, but you cannot forget that I am taken."

"I don't fancy you, Draco. Sorry to disappoint."

He chuckled a few times, then stretched his legs out and leaned back on his elbows. "You know, I think you and Nott would get along pretty well. He wants to be a Death eater, so you don't have to worry about that, and he's a pureblood, and he's not as thick as my other cronies, or a conceited berk who sleeps around a lot like Blaise. Yeah, you two would get along great."

"Uh, Draco . . . I'm not really interested."

"Come on, you can't pine over Snape forever." I smirked a little to myself, and pet Prince's sleeping form. "And my two best opposite-gender mates going out would be cool, you have to admit."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes again. "No, really, Draco, I'm fine. I'm not really in the mood for a relationship right now--Blaise hits on me enough. And he hits on everyone, so it's not a big deal."

"I just . . ." he began, his voice taking on a lower, less full-of-himself tone. He looked around the common room surreptitiously, then he finally leaned a bit closer to me so he could talk quietly, although I wasn't exactly sure why considering no one was in the room besides us. "I don't want you being alone, you know?"

I nodded, understand that he was just trying to be a friend by hooking me up with one of his other friends. I couldn't tell him I was already going out with someone, but that still didn't mean I had to go along with his plan. "I have you, Draco." he furrowed his eyebrows slightly. "Obviously as a friend."

"All right. But I do think you and Nott would be great together. By the way, I'm glad you changed your hair and eyes back. It does look much better." He stopped looking at me, then stared at the fire.

"Thanks. I thought so too."

"And how is Prince doing? Able to handle life without me ?I know, I know, we had some great times together, but sometimes, a good thing can't last forever . . . But I do miss him so . . ." he sighed melodramatically, smirking slightly.

It was Draco's way of reminding me that he'd done something extremely kind for me, and that I needed to thank him, and give him praise. "Well, at first he was heartbroken, but after much counselling, he's discovered he is his own person, and doesn't need you to complete him." That was my way of saying I was taking care of him just fine.

He nodded a few times. "You mind if I hold him?"

I shrugged, then handed him Prince, although my pet was sleeping and seemed to be a bit irritated that I'd moved his position. I watched as Prince slithered along his palm and flicked his tongue against his flesh, before curling into a ball and staying still on his hand.

"I think he likes you," I pointed out.

"He had better. I fed him for two weeks, didn't I?"

I rolled my eyes, but knew he was right, so I didn't say anything.

"Dani?" he asked quietly, a few minutes later of comfortable silence. We'd both been staring into the fire, me liking to watch the flames dance and liking the waves of heat that washed over my skin. I hummed to make sure he knew I had heard him. "Do you ever regret it?"

I furrowed my eyebrows, having absolutely no idea what he was talking about. "Regret what?" I asked while I turned to look at him.

He opened his mouth, grey eyes showing something I recognized, but not from him--from Sirius. It was a soft expression, but a sad one .I realized he had the same look in his eyes Sirius had whenever we had meetings at Grimmauld Place, and Sirius was the only one unable to give updates.

He closed his mouth and shook his head, sliding Prince into my hand. "Never mind. See you later," he murmured. He got up and walked off, shaking his head slightly and frowning, like he'd been disoriented or something.

I stared at Prince sleeping, wondering what Draco could have been talking about.


	32. Chapter 35

Chapter 35: The Colour Pink

It wasn't that I absolutely despised the colour pink. It was just my least favourite colour. The only shade of pink I actually didn't cringe at the sight of was a very soft, light shade of pink--like the colour of Draco's cheeks during the rare occasions when he blushed. It wasn't because I hated anything girly, because I knew girls who despised girly things, and it wasn't' because I was trying to be different. I just didn't think it went well with anything, with the exception of that one colour. And even too much of that one shade seemed to make my eyes hurt. Bright colours--like hot pink or neon colours, or anything extremely vivid--were definitely not one of my favourite things. And I classified most shades of pink in that category. I only had one pair of pink robes, and I wore them rarely.

So when I woke up, wandered down to the common room, and found that most girls were putting up decorations of all shades of pink, and red, and white, I cringed. I looked probably just as uncomfortable as the boys did, when they looked around at all the frills and flowers. They probably hated looking at it because it was girly, whereas I just didn't like the colour. I didn't know why the girls were decorating the place with pink and red and white, but I hoped it wouldn't last. Red and green clash horribly, I read somewhere that they are the two hardest colours for our eyes to focus on, and the pink added to it wasn't helpful. I hoped it wasn't permanent.

"Hey, Dani," Draco greeted, smirking while he sauntered over to me, hands behind his back. As soon as he stood in front of me, his eyes went directly to my chest.

Although I suppose I was rather proud of my chest, it was still uncomfortable that he didn't even try to hide it. "Uh, Draco, my eyes are up here," I said, trying to sound annoyed, but I failed.

His eyes left my chest and found mine, obviously puzzled. "What?" For a moment, he was confused, and I was confused at his confusion. Then his eyes widened and he nodded. "Oh, yeah, that--no, I wasn't looking at your chest, I was looking at your necklace. Your chest is nice, though."

"Oh, thanks," I murmured, smiling at his rather odd compliment. I looked down and held the Slytherin necklace before regarding him again. "Yeah, I always wear it."

"Yeah, I know. I got you something." He pulled his hands out form behind his back and procured a bouquet of white roses, thorns trimmed and a green ribbon tied around the stems, a small, square piece of expensive parchment, proudly declaring they were from Draco Malfoy. "There. Now, I got you white roses and Pansy a Slytherin necklace. They were both expensive, mind you, of course, but hers was more so. I hope you don't mind."

I smiled at him, holding the roses closer to my chest. "Money doesn't matter, Draco. It's really the thought that counts."

He blinked at me, as if what I said was extremely strange. "Yeah, well, now Pansy won't get upset. Happy Valentines day."

Valentines Day. It struck me very suddenly, and I felt completely stupid for not realizing it before. Because of my abhorrence of the holiday (really, a holiday to celebrate love, and yet, in order to show love it must be earned when every other day it was free? And nuns and monks passing notes to one another, after taking vows, through a man made him a saint? How stupid!) I had forgotten that today, Wednesday, was that horrid, horrid day, and I had completely spaced buying Severus a gift.

My face must have paled, because Draco looked concerned. "You don't' like it?"

"No, no, I love them, I do, I just . . . I don't have anything to give you. I forgot it was Valentines." Small lie, but now that I thought about, I probably should give Draco one too.

He cocked his head back slightly. "Well, give us a kiss, and I'll forget the whole thing. I gave you a kiss last Valentines, time to pay me back."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "Yeah, right, Draco. I'll see you later." I turned to walk off, but his hand grabbed my arm. I turned back to face him, and saw that he actually looked offended for some reason. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it sharply. "Is something wrong?"

He blinked a few times, looked at his hand on my arm, then pulled it away. He quickly hid his offended expression, and looked nonchalant. "Nothing. Just . . . You really like your gift, though, right?"

"Yeah, I've already said I did." What was his deal?

He nodded, then raised his eyebrows at me. "Good, well, I'll see you at breakfast. Better put those in a vase."

At that moment, Pansy came up to us, a self-satisfied smirk plastered on her face. "Look, Dani, I've got a necklace too, and mine's better," she mocked. Her eyes found the bouquet of white roses, with the green ribbon and the card proudly declaring who it was from.

Draco, unable to see her sudden grimace, looked rather pleased with himself. I felt bad for him.

"What?" she exclaimed, rounding on Draco, who looked taken aback. "You got her _roses?_ Roses are romantic, far more so than a Slytherin necklace! White roses, at that! You gave me _Gryffindor red_ and she got white!"

I hurriedly went up into the dormitory and searched through my stuff to find a vase. I didn't have one (who carried a vase around?) so I just grabbed an old bottle of firewhiskey out of Jasmine's trunks, praying she wasn't keeping the bottle for sentimental reasons, and used aguamenti to fill it with water. It smelled faintly of alcohol, but not too strongly. I took off the card and the ribbon, placed it beside the bottle on my nightstand, hoping Jasmine wouldn't be too upset when she saw what I'd placed it in. Then, looking around slyly, I quickly transfigured the bottle into a vase, which was quite easy, since they had similar shapes.

When I walked through the common room, Pansy and Draco were still arguing. They were inches from each other's face, screaming. They were both screaming over each other, Pansy's eyes swimming with tears, Draco's face tinged pink while he flung his arms about. Since they were both yelling over the other, I couldn't really decipher what either was saying.

Suddenly, Draco grabbed her head and brought her into a kiss, much like when Severus kissed me in the middle of our argument. I smiled, remembering that I had, at least at first, responded. Pansy, however, did not--instead, she pulled away, smacked him across the face. After he stared back at her, getting over the shock of what she'd done, they both stared at each other, Pansy covering her mouth, tars streaming down her face, apparently just as shocked as he was. Then they pulled each other into a harsh embrace, kissing passionately, despite the fact others were watching.

I shook my head, the left the common room, ready to go to the Great Hall for breakfast. I walked through the halls, feeling very awkward, wondering if there was any way I could find my way to Hogsmeade and buy a gift for Severus. If I had to, I would take him the vase of roses. I didn't want to do that though.

When I neared the Great Hall, I saw Severus nearing the Great Hall as well. It was like a punch to the gut, and I frantically blocked my mind, knowing that one look in my eyes would reveal to him that I didn't get him a present. Our eyes met, like I knew they would, and I smiled. "Happy Valentines Day, Severus," I said cheerily.

He stopped walking, and his eyes widened ever so slightly.

Relief washed over me like a wave, because I knew exactly why he'd gotten that expression, and I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. "You forgot it was Valentines?" I offered, smiling at him.

"I could lie and say no." He stiffened slightly. "But I won't. Yes, I forgot. I despise this holiday, and therefore pay no mind when it draws near."

I sighed. "Yeah, me too."

"Hate the holiday, or forget my gift?"

I shifted uncomfortably. "Both."

"Well, I suppose life is full of small comforts, however rare they are. "We both smiled at each other, then he tilted his head. "Will you allow me to make up for it tonight?"

"Yes, of course."

"I will see you at eight."

I felt myself blush. "What should I wear?"

"Whatever suits you." With that, he pushed the door that led into the Great Hall open for me, and allowed me to walk in before him.

* * *

"I love that colour on you," Pansy said, very suddenly, when I walked out into the Great Hall. I was wearing my one pink robe. It was just an everyday robes, but I'd put better makeup on than usual. I think the reason it was hard for me to like pink was because my hair was red. This was the only shade that didn't clash with my red hair. I only wore it because it was Valentines.

I furrowed my eyebrow. Pansy complimenting me was rare. It had happened a few times, but it was still extremely rare. "Er, thanks, I guess. That necklace looks great on you." I smiled at her, wondering if she would wear the necklace every day like I did, or forget about it. Not that it really mattered, of course, but I wondered if she even really liked it, or just wore it because I did and was trying to show me up. I'd take the insult personally, but she was just like this around any other girl who even glanced at Draco, so I knew it wasn't personal--I just spent more time around him than any other girls, so I got the brunt of it.

Of course, I was pretty much a bitch to her too, so I didn't have room to complain. Sometimes she didn't even have to say something mean and I would give her a dirty look as we passed. I should be the better person and turn the other cheek, but I always responded, and sometimes even started it. Sometimes I even smiled at Draco a bit flirtatiously, just to get a rise out of her. It's really twisted, but I got a strange sense of power, knowing that she felt she had to upstage me and worry about me constantly.

She touched her necklace and smirked. "Yeah, it does. Much better than it does on you."

"Pansy, seriously, when are you gonna give it up? He doesn't love me, he loves you, and I don't love him. God." There were times, of course, when I didn't derive satisfaction from it, only irritation. This was one of those moments.

"He's mine, and I don't see why I should be ashamed to brag about it. Get over yourself--it's not always about you. And, just so you know, you two do flirt, so don't pull the whole innocent act on me." She scoffed and strode away, nose held high and lips pursed.

I rolled me eyes, but was forcibly reminded of when Severus had kissed me and told me that Sirius wanted me, but I didn't want him. Was Pansy doing anything different from that? Oh, God, was I Sirius? Draco and I did play around . . . No, that was completely different. Besides, Sirius hadn't done anything wrong, and neither had I. I did not flirt with Draco, just as Sirius had not flirted with me. We only played, and Pansy didn't understand. Severus had understood, and so I had nothing to be ashamed about. Really.

So then why did I feel horrible?

I stood outside the common room, right beside the portrait, waiting for Severus. I wish I could say that I was excited and couldn't wait for him to take me wherever, but my mind was still stuck on what Pansy had said. It shouldn't have bothered me so much, but it did.

Of all the things to bug me, her suggesting that I flirted with Draco did the most. I had tortured two ministry officials since the meeting where Sirius and I had played around, and not even they bothered me as much as what Pansy said had. I could easily push torture in the back of my mind. As sick as it may sound, I actually enjoyed torturing--or at least, I had with the last two. I could easily take my frustrations out on them, and I never had to do the killing. Of course I got queasy while I did it, and both times I had sat on Draco's bed afterwards, forcing it all into the back of my mind until I fell asleep and took a much needed nap before returning to Hogwarts.

I knew just how to torment them .The secret didn't lie in the physical pain, although I did plenty of that. The last two, just like the first, had been the emotional torture, the words I said, and the promise of freedom and protection of their family. I could see into their minds, know just what would hurt them the most, and I used it against them. I didn't talk about it with Severus, because I knew that would only end in me crying like a baby, and he respectfully never asked questions about it. I knew why I was better at extracting information now--since I had thought about it quite a bit. Unlike most Death Eaters, I had feelings of love and the need to protect. They had no idea what hurt to hose who cared. I did.

I was a sick person to go through with it, I knew that eventually all of the thoughts I shoved in the back of my head would burst forth and I would have to deal with it then, but I didn't want to deal with it now. I simply took out my frustrations out on them, then showed the ma hint of kindness. They responded to that. The two I had tortured recently, just like the first, had noticed there was something different about me, and suspected I didn't really want to be with the Dark Lord. Perhaps that also helped in extracting information. It didn't matter, I wouldn't ever know, because they were killed right after.

My irritation about what she'd said was stronger than it should have. It wasn't like she hadn't accused me of flirting before, so why did it bother me now? Was it because of what happened with Sirius at Grimmauld Place? Or was it because the irritation was actually about my situation of being a spy, and I was just pretending I was bothered by what she said as an excuse to get out my feelings? I didn't understand it. I didn't study psychology like Severus had, and I didn't really want to discuss any of this with him because I knew I would cry, and I really couldn't afford to cry, or be weak.

I longed for the days when I felt no shame in crying.

"Are you well?" Severus asked suddenly. I had been gazing at the floor absently, lost in my own thoughts, and so I hadn't even heard him approach.

I looked up, shocked and smiled briefly at him. "Yes, fine. Just . . . thinking."

He waited for a few seconds. He was wearing black, of course. He looked just as he normally did. I had gotten dressed up, and he hadn't. I'd put on pink, and put on makeup. I felt stupid suddenly, and overdressed. After his few moments of silence, he cleared his throat quietly. "Is it anything you wish to discuss?"

I opened my mouth to tell him Pansy accused me of flirting with Draco and I was concerned that I had been, and that I was just like Sirius, but then I remembered the face he'd made when he'd walked in on me and Draco sleeping in the same bed, and thought better of it. I shook my head. "No."

He nodded, giving me a quick look-over. "Pink?" he inquired, wit ha raised eyebrow.

What was I thinking, wearing pink to a date with Severus? "It's Valentines Day, and I assure you, the only pink thing I own," I explained, a bit defensively. He kept raising his eyebrow at me. It irritated me. Really, I should have worn something else, and here he was, looking at me like that. "Fine, I'll go change," I snapped, turning on my heel and opening my mouth to say the password.

I felt his arm on mine, and I slowly turned around to face him. His eyes were narrowed and there was a faint crease between his eyebrows. "You sartorial appearance doesn't bother me, Danielle. Are you sure you're quite all right?"

"I said I was fine," I snapped a bit harshly, pulling my arm out of his grasp.

At my tone, he no longer looked concerned, but instead, annoyed. "Excuse my rudeness in asking. Perhaps I shall be kind enough not to discuss your well-being in the future. Good night." He turned around and started walking off.

I was torn between running after him and apologizing, and telling him off behind his back. I gritted my teeth, then took after him. "Severus, I'm sorry," I apologized hastily, coming up beside him.

He glanced at me, but his expression was anything but forgiving. "Fascinating."

"Oh, excuse me for having a bad day. Am I not allowed?" I growled, angry that he didn't accept my apology right off the bat.

He walked quicker, mouth up in his ever-famous sneer. "My day has not been very pleasant either, but I made an effort. Do try to do the same."

I scoffed and followed him for a bit, fuming in irritation, but not wanting to make things worse, so I remained quiet. He didn't seem to mind me following him. When we made it to his quarters (which wasn't that far away, being in the dungeons and all) he opened his door, but turned back to face me. "I have your gift in here. Do you want it or should I wait until you're in a better mood?"

My heart sank. He'd been planning on taking me to his quarters, something that he'd only done twice, each time because I'd been indisposed. He was very into his own personal space, and he'd been about to let me into it, and what had I done? Gotten snappy.

And I hadn't gotten him a present.

"Uh . . . I didn't get you anything, I'm sorry . . . Like I said, bad day . . ."

Normally he didn't' seem too perturbed by lack of attention. Or maybe I had never given him the feeling of it, and so I hadn't ever noticed. All I know is that his mouth clenched tightly and his cheeks turn a shade of brick red. "I understand forgetting this morning, for I did as well, but . . ." He didn't finish. He just closed his eyes tightly, then shook his head. "No. I can see you're not in the mood. Good night."

He went to shut the door, but I grabbed his arm and prevented him from fully entering his quarters. "I said I was sorry! But what could I have done? Snuck out into Hogsmeade? Apparated to London? I'm getting better at Apparation, but seriously, I'm not ready for that yet! And I didn't think you were going to get me anything, so it didn't' even cross my mind, all right? And I had Umbridge today! Umbridge! You know how I hate that class, it's so boring!"

He slammed the door shut and towered over me, black eyes gleaming. "Do you know what I had to do today? I had to speak with the Dark Lord about your progress in your ability to torture. He spoke of your attitude whilst you torture--he relayed to me every word you spoke, every picture you painted with your words, each spell you cast." The Dark Lord had watched my last bout of torture to see what it was I did so well--why I could get them to talk. "Do you think I enjoy having that image of you?"

"Well, imagine how it is to be me!" I yelled suddenly.

"Yes, pity yourself, and make it about you," he growled, sneering at me. His cold expression did not help me feel any better. "I then went to Grimmauld Place, and had to deal with Black. Do you know what he said to me?"

"That you're a berk?" I answered snootily, folding my arms across my chest, glaring at him. I had come up to him to apologize, and what did he do? Get mad at me! Like I really needed this!

"Lupin relayed to him your answer to his probing question. Apparently, like you, Black mistook 'intimacy' for 'sex', and he said that I must be worthless indeed, if my own girlfriend could not touch me. I thought, perhaps, that you would make this day less abominable!"

"So you're upset 'cause I won't shag you? Is that what tonight was supposed to be about? Bringing me to your quarters? Well, thanks a lot! I am not some . . . trollop!" I was offended by that. Honestly, was sex really that important? Was it not possible to have a relationship without it?

"This is not about that!" he spat, little flecks of spit flying from his mouth, his face turning redder.

"Him saying that bugged you that much? What's wrong with us not shagging? I can't believe you!"

"You never should have divulged our private affairs with Lupin, that is the point, not whether or not I wish to shag you!"

"There is nothing to hide!"

"That is not the point!"

"Do you want to have sex with me?" I demanded angrily, clenching my hands into fists. My voice was much louder than his--even though he was angry, he managed to keep his voice low, just raised slightly with clipped tones. I didn't care if me yelling upset him--I was irritated beyond belief. Thinking of Sirius made me think of what Pansy had said, and led me back to the thoughts I didn't want. But thanks to him, I was very angry, and disgusted that all he thought of me was just something to shag.

He glared at me, eyes a burning obsidian, gleaming madly. "Keep your voice down," he hissed. "People will hear you!"

I looked down the hall, then pursed my lips together, realizing he was right. I wouldn't admit it though. The hot fury that pulsed through me was something I hadn't felt for a long while, at least, not in regards to him. "Is that all you see me as?"

"You are being ever petulant, Danielle," he growled. "Obviously I do not see you as only that! How is it possible you have thought beneath that thick skull of yours? Do you honestly view me as that type of man? How dare you insinuate that I would _ever_ use you for that! I am not Sirius Black!"

He was right, again. I knew that Severus was a more admirable man than that, but I hated him for yelling at me ,and ruining my day further. This was my first Valentines Day in which I had someone to share it with, and he goes and does this! Yes, perhaps I was being unfair, but I didn't care. "You haven't answered my question! Do you want to have sex with me?" Maybe I was being childish for not letting it go, but what Sirius said obviously bugged him, and that bothered me.

"I am _not_ answering that." He turned on his heel and slammed his door open, it bouncing off of the wall inside his quarters while he walked in.

I stormed in after him, smacking the door open again as it threatened to shut on me, the force of it bouncing off of the wall making it almost hit me. "Uh-uh! You are not walking away from that! Answer the damn question!"

Suddenly, a strong scent hit me. It was so powerful it seemed to almost knocked me over--it was almost physical. I breathed in the scent of salmon, something that I loved, mixed with other fine smells that played with my senses.

Severus was rummaging through a shelf angrily and I took that moment to look around. He had plates on his table, plates with salmon, and two pitchers--one full of water, the other full of raspberry lemonade. The lights were dimmer than normal, but other than that, everything was the same. I hadn't really imagined Severus as a highly romantic man, but this was something extraordinary. He even had one solitary white candle on the table.

The hot anger building inside of me froze very suddenly, the cold sensation making my chest ache and my stomach drop.

Severus was suddenly in front of me, thrusting a bouquet of red roses (the thorns trimmed) into my hands, a black ribbon tied around the stems. I took it, dazed suddenly, while I stared into his black eyes.

He leaned over me. "I am thirty-six years old, and have yet to know a woman's touch. Of course I want to make love to you. That does not mean I feel I am ready, nor do I feel you are. This does not mean I think of you any less," his voice was dangerously low.

I couldn't speak. The cold feeling of shame climbed into my throat, and the sharp stab of guilt pierced my chest. I held the roses tightly, my hand shaking.

He looked around the room, scoffed, and shook his head. I saw a suspiciously wet gleam in his eye,, and that made me feel even worse. "Get out," he ordered as he turned away, placing his hands on the table and leaning over slightly, so I could only see his back.

I stood there, dumbstruck, the scent of salmon overwhelming, making my stomach growl. He had done this for me--Severus Snape, a man who was not necessarily romantic by conventional means--had remembered I liked fish and raspberry lemonade, and made it for me. I couldn't even blame him for starting it, because I had.

"Get out!" he snapped more harshly.

I turned away, stunned and shamed and feeling lousy, and I left his quarters, somewhat dazed. No sooner than I had shut the door did I hear him knock something to the floor. I heard the sound of dishes breaking. It must have been the plates and pitchers.

I walked back to the dormitory, transfiguring another vase and putting these roses in it. I stared at them, then sat on my bad, staring ahead of myself, ignoring that wet stains on my cheeks and the burning sensation in my eyes.

Another horrible Valentines Day. Only this time, I had ruined it.

* * *

A/N--Much thanks to hermionestargazer, Hades'Queen, and bluehaven4220 for your insights and your reviews. They help more than you could possibly realize.

Thank you very much to those of you who continue to read my story, your reviews keep me motivated! And sorry about any typos and sorry for any confusion they may cause. I do use spell-check, I swear--I think it may be broken. Every time I write Dani, it automatically changes it to Dusty. It's a very sudden thing, and I don't know why it's doing it, so i have to put periods in between each letter, then erase the periods. If you know how to help me with that, please do. All other typos are my fault, and not my computer's.


	33. Chapter 36

Chapter 36: It's the Thought that Counts

I quickly padded down the hallway, holding my shoes against my chest. I had to walk as quietly as possible, so I had to take my shoes off, so the my socks muffled the sounds of my footsteps. My fear of the dark could not stop me from what I had to do. I could not use my wand for light, lest I give my position away.

Normally I wouldn't take this much precaution in sneaking around, but Severus was doing the rounds. I wondered if it was because it was Valentines, and he was the only one who offered.

After I had moped around the dormitory, loathing myself, I decided that I needed to make up to Severus and buy him a gift. Curfew and rules be damned. I had screwed it up enough as it was, and there was no way I would take Draco's gift and give it to Severus. Maybe Severus would never find out, maybe he would, but it wasn't good enough of an apology either way.

I really hated the dark, but I had something I needed to do, and nothing would stop me.

I snuck through the school, making sure to be as quiet as possible, knowing that Severus was more than adept to catching me in the dungeons and the school after curfew, and after our little argument, I knew he wouldn't be in the best of moods. I was going go to either Diagon Alley, or Hogsmeade. Hogsmeade was, of course, closer, but chances were that there were still shops in Diagon Alley still open.

I thought I heard footsteps, so I pressed myself against the wall, hiding in the shadows. I waited for whoever it was to walk on by before I let out a small, quiet breath. Moonlight bathed bits of the corridor, but there were still plenty of shadows to hide in and walk through, and apparently whoever was walking around was taking to the shadows as I was.

After I heard the footsteps stop, I pulled away from the shadow, thinking hard. I was standing beside a one-eyed witch with a hump back. If anybody came, I could hide behind it. If only I could find some other way to Hogsmeade, other than sneaking through the castle. The chances of me being caught were rather high since Severus was the one on duty. I thought I heard footsteps again, so I leaned against the statue of the witch and withdrew my shoulders, trying to hide myself without making too much noise.

When the footsteps disappeared again, I stepped away from the statue, furrowing my eyebrows in thought. If only there was some way of getting to Hogsmeade without having to go through the castle . . .

But there wasn't, so I had to just go forth and do it.

I stepped away from the witch, and continued through the halls. When I made it to the entrance hall, the moon shining through the windows my only source of light, I drew my cloak around me and put my shoes on. I stepped out into the cold, snow crunching beneath my feet, and I started to head off of Hogwarts grounds.

My eyes caught the broom shed, and I stopped moving. Hogsmeade was closer, but Diagon Alley would probably have nicer gifts, and some shops might possibly be open. Of course, flying there would take quite a long time, but I figured I could get there tomorrow morning, shop then, and fly back. It was better than Hogsmeade, which might not even be open, and I could sneak in there in the morning because they'd send me right back--only on certain days could students go, and I doubted tomorrow I would be able to.

Then I remembered that the Hogsmeade trip had been set for today. All day long I could have gone to Hogsmeade and bought the gift then, but I had completely spaced it. Out of all the days for me to forget a Hogsmeade visit, it had to be Valentines Day!

"Ugh, I am so stupid . . ." I grumbled to myself.

Angry at Hogsmeade, I stormed over and snuck into the broom shed, grabbing the broom that looked the newest and best cared for. It was cold out here, even though I was wearing a cloak, and I wondered just how cold it would be up in the air, zooming as fast as I possibly could to London. I wasn't even sure I knew how to get to London from here--well, I'd figure it out, and I could stop for directions.

I went back onto the ground, holding the broom. I thought I heard some snow crunch behind me, but when I turned around, I saw nothing. I saw that the light in Professor Hagrid's hut was on, and I grimaced. Hagrid was awake. If I started flying on Hogwarts grounds, he would see me.

I trudged through the grounds, holding the broom tightly, kicking white snow out of my way. My white breath hung in front of me, and my cheeks were starting to numb, as was the end of my nose. Maybe these pink robes were a little thin, but I didn't care. I needed to get Severus a gift. I had bollixed this day up beyond belief, after all that he'd done for me, and I would be damned if I didn't make it right.

I shouldn't have insinuated he only thought of me as a sex object. That had been uncalled for.

When I finally made it off Hogwarts grounds, I stared at the broom in my hand, and I groaned. Flying had never been my specialty. And the last time I'd even been on one, I was in my first year, and I had been the worst in the class. Flying was supposed to be simple and direct--the broom did what as it was instructed to do. All I had to do was turn it in a certain direction, and it would do what I said. But it was not as simple as Madam Hooch made it sound. Or at least, it hadn't been to me.

Oh well, it had to be done, didn't it? I straddled the broom, holding it between my legs, and I pushed up off of the ground.

And fell on my arse.

The snow somewhat softened my fall, but when the snow began to make my robes wet, I stood up, cough, and rubbing my behind. I brushed myself off, then straddled the broom again. I thought about flying as much as I could, then kicked off of the ground again.

The broom wobbled in the air, and I began to tilt it upward, flying tentatively through the air. I made it a few feet before I tilted it upward again. It bucked, and I fell off, clutching the broom, shrieking slightly, and crashing back to the snow-covered ground, taking the broom down with me. I landed in a snow bank, freezing fluffs of white covering me entirely, bits of it falling onto my face. I stood put of the snow bank and tried brushing myself off, the biting cold moving through me, freezing my bones. My whole body was shivering and my teeth was chattering while I tried to shake off and brush away the snow.

The freezing air seemed to bite my nose and cheeks, and my hands were so cold they felt a little burned. I looked down, the moonlight and greyish-pink sky of winter making it easier to see. My hands were bright red, and seemed a bit swollen. Clutching onto the broom hurt my knuckles; made them feel like the skin was going to split.

My hair was damp now, and stuck to my face. I took in a deep breath, straddled the broom again, trying hard not to think about how cold I would be flying up in the air, or how it would be if my less-than-spectacular ability at flying forced my to fall to my death.

I kicked off of the ground and flew close to the ground, trying turn and moving up and down, until I felt confident in my flying ability enough to start zooming upwards. I made it a few feet before it sped up suddenly. It shot up through the air, taking me by surprise, and my grip on the slick broom handle was not nearly tight enough, and I fell of the broom, screaming, while it flew up through the night sky without me.

I landed on the hard ground, the snow a bit slushy, splashing me in the face and soaking my clothes. I had landed on my stomach, and it had knocked all the wind out of me. For a few moments I tried to breath but couldn't, then I let out a loud gasp, coughed, and pushed myself off of the ground, looking down at my wet robes, and feeling my wet hair.

The wind was like knives slicing my skin, and the freezing air seemed to go through me and settle in the pit of my stomach after freezing my bones. I wiped the wet slush from my face on my cloak, shivering and teeth chattering while I looked around.

I was in Hogsmeade.

"Fine," I muttered angrily.

I walked over to the shops and peered in through the windows--they all appeared to be closed. All of them except one, which was a few stores down. I hurried ran to it, folding my arms over my chest, and burst in through the door.

"Sorry, dear, but we're getting ready to close," said some woman. Then she looked up at me, and seemed concerned. "Are you all right? Do you want me to get someone for you?"

"I'm fine, I just need to buy something," I said, voice wavering through my chattering teeth.

"No, really, we are closing, but I could get you a pair of dry clothes, and warm you up a bit--"

"I said I was fine. I need to buy something. What do you sell? I'll be quick, all right? Trust me, I just want to buy something.

She raised her eyebrow at me. "We just sell figurines, is that all right? Do you have somewhere to go? I could make you some hot cocoa."

"I go to Hogwarts," I told her, hurrying over to the shelves, quickly looking at all the figurines. There were dragons and bears and all sorts of animals. The figurines were charmed to move around like real animals, so it was actually quite interesting. There was a small figurine of a snake I seriously considered buying Severus, but I think it appealed more to me than it would him, an I think I wanted me to have it, and I already had a snake.

The woman kept fussing over me, but I continued to ignore her. I saw a lion and immediately moved on--Severus would not like that.

There was a bat that I thought looked cool, but I was worried he would take that as an insult. There was a spider, but the thought of even holding the damn figurine long enough to hand it to him made me sick to my stomach. Spiders scared the hell out of me, and I didn't think it was something Severus would like anyway.

I looked as quickly as I could, the warmth of the store only making me more aware of how cold I had been, and just how cold it would be when I went back out there.

I glanced over a hippogriff and a phoenix, ignoring them. What type of figurine would Severus like? They were all made of very thin, clear glass. They weren't coloured, just clear. They were all small enough to fit in the palm of my hand--no larger than a newborn kitten. They looked so fragile, and yes, they looked nice, but what would Severus like?

I saw a glass kitten pawing at my palm as I ran my hand over them. A puppy barked, and butterflies flitted around. A dragon snapped at the tips of my fingers and I jerked back. There was a doe prancing around the shelf, and a turtle peeking his head out of his shell, and a horse throwing his head back, his mane whipping behind him, a stag walking over to the doe . . .

A doe.

Remembering that was his patronus (as well as Lily's) I picked that up delicately, holding it in my palm, and going over to the girl, my hand shaking so violently she eyed it warily, like she was afraid I was going to drop it.

"Here--let me--" She took it from me and smiled nervously. "I'll put it in a box for you, okay?"

I nodded, then rubbed my arms through my robes, body shaking. I watched as she put it in a box with cotton in it, I assume as cushioning, and then I paid for it. I took the box and waltzed out of the shop, bracing myself for the extreme cold as it hit me.

I managed to get a few feet before I smacked into something.

Severus steadied me, and looked down into my wet, cold face. He raised an eyebrow at me, then shook his head, sighing. I knew I had heard footsteps in the snow earlier. He narrowed his black eyes at me angrily, his mouth up in a sneer. Before he could say anything, I stepped away from him and held out the box, so he could take it.

He looked at the box, and realization slid across his features. He stared at the box in my red hands, then took it from me, stowing the box in his robes. He opened his cloak, revealing his black robes underneath, and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his chest, and then wrapped his other arm around me. His cloak was thicker than mine, and he was decidedly much warmer, so I buried my head into his chest while we walked through Hogsmeade. He didn't even seem to mind that I was damp and freezing. It must have been quite uncomfortable for him.

We walked in silence, but I was so cold I was sure I wouldn't have been able to concentrate on any conversation anyway.

He took me to the Slytherin portrait, then pulled away from me. I was disappointed--I'd gotten sued to his warmth, and pulling away from him made me cold. EH stared at my hands, which were swollen and red, and pulled them into his own, rubbing his hands over mine. Normally I'm sure it would have felt nice, but it actually hurt this time, his hands seemingly too hot.

He rubbed them and slowly they began to feel as they normally did. His hands on mine were warm, and he seemed to know just what he was doing. "I saw you beside that one-eyed witch," he stated while he rubbed my hands slowly. "I thought you were Potter at first."

"Why would he be there?" I asked curiously, my voice quiet.

He glanced at me, but didn't answer my question.

"I followed you out of the school, curious as to what you were doing, when I realized it was, in fact, not Potter. You've taken to sneaking quite well, though you do need to work on it." I nodded slowly, thinking that I had wasted my time in taking off my shoes and to walk in my socks, if he had just seen me anyway. "Why did you steal a broom? Obviously you are in no condition to do so for long distances. Or at all. Surely you must have known that?"

I shrugged, looking away from him, still feeling lousy. "I wanted to go to Diagon Alley."

"Do you even know how to get there from here?" he asked incredulously. He glared at him, then looked away again. "In that case, I'm glad you could not fly very well. You would have caught your death, flying at that altitude in this weather."

I glanced at him and grimaced. "So you saw me fall then?"

"Yes, but from afar. You flew quite far and quickly. I could not keep up with you."

I nodded, staring at his hands holding mine, and rubbing them to keep them warm. "I would have Apparated, but I can't do that yet. Hopefully, after a few more lessons . . ." I sighed, looking at hi in the eyes, feeling the guilt overwhelm me again, making me feel even sicker. "I'm sorry about earlier," I whispered, my voice cracking slightly.

He nodded slightly, keeping his eyes on my hands.

"You can open your gift now, if you want," I said. I hoped he would like it. It had been a quick buy, and I really wished I could have had more time, but because I'd screwed that up, I didn't really have much of a choice.

He let go of my hands and reached into his robes, where he'd put the box with the glass doe. He opened it, and it pranced into his palm, cocking its head to the side and looking at him quizzically.

He stared at it, his eyes glassy, mouth slightly parted.

"Sorry, it was the only store open. It was the only thing there I thought you might like."

He looked away form the figurine and then at me, staring at me as if I'd done something very odd. He put the figurine back into the box and tilted his head to the side, still staring at me strangely. I wondered if it was because his doe patronus came from his love of Lily, and it intrigued him because I'd given him that, almost like I was condoning his love. Or maybe he didn't like glass figurines and was not to look unhappy with it.

"I want you to take a warm shower and change into some dry clothes, and go directly to bed. Otherwise, you may become ill. Good night." Then he turned and swept away, his cloak billowing behind him.

I stood there for a few moments, still getting the feeling that he wasn't happy with me.

* * *

_The Quibbler _had been banned by Umbridge, because it had printed Harry's story, something the ministry dubbed as lies and so, therefore, we weren't allowed to read about it. I honestly thought the ministry was being stupid as hell--it was like they were telling us we had no right to think what we wanted, and that we had to have our thoughts dictated by them. In a way, they were just as bad as the Dark Lord, refusing to allow us to have our own thoughts. I understood that they were afraid, but didn't they understand that refusing the see the truth was exactly what he wanted? 

Of course, because I had an image to keep up, I has to act like I was glad the world didn't know of the Dark Lord's return, and throw away my copy of _The Quibbler_ so that no one could tell I was hoping his side won the war as opposed to our side.

It made me nauseous that I thought of his side different from mine. I didn't want to.

"What's that you're throwing away there?" Draco asked as I crumpled it up and threw it away as I walked down the hall, going towards the common room for my break. Draco had come out of his classroom--History of Magic--and extremely bored students followed him out. Crabbe and Goyle, apparently, had skived, because they weren't in the class with him.

"Throwing that rubbish _The Quibbler_ printed away. Besides, not in the mood to get in trouble, since it's banned and all."

Draco looked around surreptitiously, then smirked at me cockily. "Not that it's really rubbish. God, they're all blind, aren't they? It's brilliant." I nodded and smiled at him, just agreeing like I knew I had to. "So, where you headed?"

"I have a break right now. You?"

"Potions."

"Oh, I love that class," I informed with a lazy grin. Severus and I weren't fighting anymore--it had only been a few days, and we couldn't' spend that much time together, but I could tell by the way we stared at each other in the Great hall, and how he nodded at me in greeting whenever he saw me, and purposely brushed his arm against mien when we walked by each other.

"Right . . ." Draco said knowingly, waggling his eyebrows. "Sure you just don't like staring at the teacher?"

"Shut up, Draco," I snapped playfully.

Draco teased me about my 'crush' on the Potions master all the way to the dungeons, where he thankfully stopped, so as to avoid humiliating me more. "God, Draco, you're such a prat sometimes."

"I resemble that remark," he stated quite plainly.

"Yes, you certainly do."

"What? And I'm supposed to be ashamed of it? It's who I am, and you know you love me for it."

"Oh, so now I love _you,_ huh?" I said, standing in front of Severus' class door. We were the only ones so far, and it felt awkward, standing there without Crabbe and Goyle beside him, or at least Pansy.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Oh, you know you love me, Dani. It's just a matter of time before you have to admit it." He rearranged his shoulder strap so it felt more comfortable holding his book bag on it.

"Yes, you're right, I'm hopelessly in love with you. Such a shame it's a one-sided love," I sighed dramatically, shaking my head, and pretending to wipe away a tear with my index finger.

"Who says it's one-sided?"

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "That's right, Draco, we love each other, and we're gonna get married someday. We'll have two children, a boy and a girl. The girl will be named Moonflower, and the boy will be named Ignatius."

He chuckled loudly, then shook his head. "Those names are ridiculous."

"What? And your name has that perfect touch of elegance?"

Draco narrowed his grey eyes at me. "My name is the best name anyone could possibly have--and, it's a constellation. What do you expect my parents to name me--something weak, like Sammy?"

"A rose by any other name, Draco, would smell just as sweet."

Draco blinked, apparently confused at my words. I realized that he would not know anything about Shakespeare, seeing as that was muggle literature. "What was that?"

"A metaphor, Draco. Even if you'd been named Sammy, you'd still be the same Draco."

"The Draco you know and love," he said, grabbing my hand and tugging me against his chest. When he held my right hand with his left and put his right hand on my lower back, I put my left arm on his shoulder, and he began to sway, raising an eyebrow at me.

I laughed at him and shook my head, but went along with it. I thought about when I had danced with Severus at the Yule Ball, and moved along with Draco. It was obvious Draco really knew what he was doing, but with him being rich, it didn't surprise me.

"You still haven't given me a gift yet," he stated.

"Really, Draco? That was several days ago."

"Yeah, and I still want one."

"Well, maybe later. I don't have anything on me right now." He expertly spun me away from him, still holding my hand, the spun me into him, so that my back was against his chest. I giggled while he rocked behind me.

"All right, but don't forget. It's only fair--I've given you something for Valentines twice."

We kept swaying, me with my back against his chest, him holding my hand in front of me. "Well, I don't know if I'll have time to get you anything nice. Can't really go anywhere, you know."

"What was it you said?" he asked rhetorically, then spun me back out, holding my hand in the air, smirking at me. "Oh, right. It's the thought that counts."

"Do you really believe that?"

He spun me several times in a row, then pulled me back into his chest, this time both of us were in normal dancing position, swaying slightly, his hand on my lower back. "No, I don't. But you do."

"_Some_-one is _spoi_-led," I sang.

He grabbed my wrist of the hand I kept on his shoulder, then held my hand. "You say it like it's a bad thing," he said, smirking at me. We began spinning around in the hallway, me grasping his hands and using the momentum to keep spinning, leaning back and laughing hysterically.

When we let go, I stumbled backwards, joy filling my chest, my vision sliding to the left, then jerking back into place. Draco's chuckles filled my ears while I tried to stand straight. I finally managed to do so, and saw him swaying dizzily.

My vision corrected itself, and I saw Draco grin at me. He showed his teeth when he grinned, and his grey eyes shone brightly. I couldn't really remember him grinning like that before--he usually smirked, not smiled. Before I could really think about it, I noticed Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger behind Draco, and my eyes slid over to them.

Draco must have seen my eyes move, because he turned around sharply, and saw the three of them. "What're looking at, Potter? How long have you been there?" he demanded nervously, as if he was embarrassed to be seen wiht me or something. Personally, I didn't care about them seeing us act childish.

Harry sneered and narrowed his green eyes at him. He didn't say anything though--he looked more confused than anything, like he hadn't' expected Draco to be playing around with me.

"A rose by any other name . . ." Hermione answered, looking at me with confusion, apparently more interested in me than Draco. I realized that she, being a mudblood, would know the phrase, and fidn it odd I had said it. She looked at me suspiciously, but said nothing.

"No one asked you, mudblood," Draco drawled.

Harry and Ron both drew their wands and Draco's was out an instant later. Hermione put her hand on Ron's arm and looked like she was about to reprimand him, but before anything could happen, the door to the Potions room opened.

Severus stepped out, his dark eyes sweeping the scene. "Fighting, are we? The three of you against Draco and Danielle, who doesn't even have her wand out?"

"Professor, let us explain--" Hermione began, but she didn't get to finish.

"I believe five points from Gryffindor _each_ will suffice. Three against two, one of them disarmed. You are extraordinarily like your father, Potter."

Harry looked like he was about to yell at Severus, but he never got the chance to. At that moment, a group of kids appeared, almost at the same time, seeing as there was only a minute until the next class started. Severus swept into the classroom while the other students (Pansy among them) trudged in, Hermione and Ron included, looking about as excited as a dog would be before going to the vet.

Draco and Harry were glaring at each other, then they went to go in after everybody else had entered. Draco rammed his shoulder into Harry's roughly. Harry dropped his bag, and all of his books, quills, and ink wells fell out of it, scattering along the floor. "Take another five points for you being annoying," Draco sneered, pointing at his Inquisitorial Squad badge, then sauntered into the classroom.

Since Hermione and Ron had went in with the other, probably assuming Harry was with him, I decided to help Harry pick up his things.

I bent down and started helping him stick his things back in his bag. His lips were pressed tight and his dark eyes flashed angrily while I cleaned up the mess and helped him put it in his bag. I noticed we had extremely similar hands. I kept stuffing his stuff into his bag, and once I thought I saw my sleeve ride up my arm and reveal my Dark Mark, but I think I imagined it because Harry didn't say anything. After I finished helping him pick up his things, we both stood, and I smiled at him.

"Thanks. What were you doing with Malfoy?" he asked abruptly, eyeing me curiously.

"Just playing around," I answered, feeling awkward. He was my second cousin, and he didn't even know it. I was on the verge of just blurting it out, when the bell rang, signalling the start of class.

He stared at me strangely, then nodded. "Well, I'd better get in. Snape's gonna take points for being late anyway, but I don't think Hermione would appreciate me being much later." He nodded politely at me, then went to go inside Severus' class.

I grabbed his arm and he turned to look at me. He didn't appear offended so much as puzzled. I gritted my teeth. He waited patiently, his eyes flicking between my hand on his arm and my eyes. I noticed he fidgeted slightly, and I thought I saw his free hand inch towards his wand. I wanted to tell him we were second cousins, but it just wouldn't come out, and he looked a bit nervous, like he thought I was going to attack him or something.

The door opened again a bit roughly, and Severus stood in the frame. His eyes rested on the both of us, my hand on Harry's arm, and I quickly jerked it away. Severus stared at us for a few moments. "Potter, I believe class is being held inside the room, and not out in the hall. Five points for your tardiness. Now get inside."

Harry glared at him in a way I used to glare at him back when I didn't like him, his green eyes flashing. I wondered if I looked like that when I got angry. Well, obviously not like that in the face, since he looked like James, but I meant in the eyes. Harry went inside the classroom angrily, but Severus stayed in the hall with me.

"I just helped him picked up his things," I explained. I knew it must have been hard for him to see us talking together, considering we both happened to look like James and Lily.

Severus nodded at me, although he still looked a little troubled. After a few seconds, he stepped forward, and looked down at me. "I did like the gift you gave me."

"You did?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"I picked it because it was your patronus."

He nodded again. "I know. It was thoughtful." He looked down both ends of the hall, then leaned down, and kissed me on the lips gently. When he pulled away, we smiled at each other. His eyes searched my face. "Goodbye, Danielle."

"So I take it I'm forgiven?" I inquired hopefully.

"Perhaps," he said, then smirked at me. Leave it to him to not give a full answer. Then he turned around, and swept into his classroom, leaving me to walk to the common room with a lazy grin on my face.


	34. Chapter 37

Chapter 37: Dealing With Displeasure

I was reading over an essay I'd written for Defence Against the Dark Arts, wondering if Umbridge even really read the damn essays she assigned or not. She never wrote any comments or criticisms, just marked it with a hasty O. I honestly think she just marked anybody who turned in an assignment with an O. Still, it didn't mean I was going to stop trying, because as far as I know, she may well actually read it, and just in case she did, I wasn't going to say anything I wasn't supposed to. I had been so absorbed into writing I'd lost track of time, and was so bored reading over the essay I'd written that I'd read the same line four times and couldn't really remember what it said.

Draco had come up to the library with me; he said he needed help on one of his assignments but I know he just came up here to hide from Pansy. They were having another argument. I don't know about what, but to be honest, I didn't really care. I was busy working on my assignment, and Draco was busy walking through the aisles. As long as Pansy didn't start anything with me, I didn't care.

Figuring that what I'd written must have been good enough, I put my essay away and looked up, looking around the library. I saw Harry Potter sitting a few tables down from mine, a book propped open on the table, a piece of parchment out. He wasn't writing, though--he was just staring ahead of himself wit ha vacant expression on his face. I knew that expression well--everybody did. He was bored out of his mind.

I gathered up my things and walked slowly over to the table. When I sat down in front of him, he blinked into reality and focused on me, smiling briefly but politely. I smiled back. "Er, hi," I said nervously.

He nodded at me, then sat up straighter. "Hey."

I remembered back when I'd talked to him in my fourth year, his third year, right after I found out Lupin was quitting. He'd grown since then; matured. Well, at least physically. According to Severus, Harry Potter probably hadn't matured mentally or emotionally since the age of eight.

"Er, you probably don't remember me--well, I mean, you remember me from yesterday, I meant from before. We talked once."

Harry chuckled airily and shook his head. "I remember you. You're a Slytherin and your name is Danielle."

I felt a little stunned her remembered, and happy with myself. "Oh . . . Well, that's cool. Listen, er, I kinda wanted to talk to you about something."

He looked around warily, as if he thought someone was going to come out of nowhere and attack him. I wondered what that was about. "Er, I'm here with my friend, Hermione, so . . ."

"Oh, we don't have to go anywhere. It's nothing _that_ major." Well, it felt major to me, but in the spectrum of things, it wasn't exactly life-or-death. I looked over his facial features. Other than his eyes, and his hands, we didn't really look very similar, not physically. But we had the same facial expressions.

Harry furrowed his eyebrow, then made an odd sort of grimace, like he was about to tell me something unpleasant. "Look, I don't mean to be rude or anything, but I'm not sure that's a good idea."

He might as well have just smacked me across the face. It was obvious by his tone that he was trying to be polite, but there was a slight edge to it. "Oh . . . I'm sorry, I didn't mean to . . ."

"It's nothing you said, really. But, yesterday when you were helping me pick up my stuff, I saw your Dark Mark, and . . . I didn't say anything then because you were being nice, but I really am not interested in anything to do with Voldemort. I don't care what you have to say."

It was like he'd doused me with cold water. I thought I had imagined my sleeve going up--but I hadn't. He'd seen it. The 'hero' of the wizarding world knew I was a Death Eater, but didn't even know we were related. I blinked a few times. "Er . . . I . . . well, you see . . ." I stammered, wanting so very much to tell him I was a spy, that it wasn't true, but I knew that I couldn't. When he kept looking at me, I clsoed my eyes and sighed, feeling somewhat sick to my stomach. I had to recollect myself, shove my emotions in the back of my mind, pretend not to care that he knew I was a Death Eater . . . I was supposed to believe in what the Dark Lord said, not be ashamed of it . . .

"I don't need to hear it. Look, you weren't mean to me. I don't know you, and I don't know what it is between you and Malfoy either. You don't need to explain yourself to me, all right? I'm not interested."

"I didn't want to talk about that," I said quickly, suddenly irritated. This was not how I imagined this going at all. He didn't even know that I was secretly rooting for him; that I always had. He didn't know that I have seen Sirius and Lupin and spoke with them--that I respected him; he didn't know about our connection, and now all he'd be able to see me as was a Death Eater. "I didn't even know that you'd seen it, so . . ."

"What's this about then? You and Malfoy? Because I'm not very interested in that either. Honestly, seeing you two . . . Do whatever it was you were doing, well, dancing and talking about marriage and kids or whatever, well, it was weird, and not what I expected from Malfoy at all, but I just don't care about him. And if you're going to apologize for what he said to Hermione, well it's nice of you and all, but really, I can't accept it, because he said it, not you, and I'm not interested in you trying to make him look good either."

"No, no, that's not--" I was getting extremely irritated with him. Why wouldn't he let me get a word in? Well, all right, so I wasn't' so much irritated with him as much as I was irritated with the fact I couldn't just blurt out the truth, and I understood his attitude towards me, but this was just going all wrong. I took in a deep breath, so as to calm myself down. "Look, Draco and I are just friends, everybody knows he's in love with Pansy, but this has nothing to do with that, and I'm not expecting anything from you, I just wanted to tell you something I thought you should know."

Harry looked like he was about to say something, and judging by his expression it probably wasn't going to be pleasant, but he shut his mouth and nodded once. "Okay. Make it quick, though. I'm only doing this because you were nice to me yesterday, though."

I nodded, then took in a deep breath. "I . . . look, this is gonna sound so weird but . . . Well, your mum, Lily, well, she's . . . My first cousin." He stared at me blankly, like he wasn't sure he'd heard me correctly. "My dad is her uncle. His name was David Evans. He married, uh, my mum, Emily Kensith. It's not a big deal, I mean, us being second cousin, really, it's not like a real relation, but I just thought that you should know."

He kept staring at me, looking me over, then finally he settled on my eyes. He looked into them for awhile, then he nodded once. "Huh . . . Well, it makes sense, I guess. I always thought you looked like my mum." He folded his arms and looked away form me, and I saw his lips purse. "I can't believe I'm related to a Death Eater. You look like my mum, and you work for the man who killed her. Great. Well, thanks for telling me, I don't know how I could have lived without knowing that. It was so kind of you. Can you leave now?"

I stared at him for a few seconds, hating the fact he sounded so angry. We both glared at each other fro a few seconds, then I stood up angrily, my chair scraping against the floor. I was just so angry with him for not understand, for knowing that he couldn't' understand, and because he pointed out something to me I didn't even think of before. I looked like Lily, and I was working for the man who killed her. Ironic.

I wanted to say something cruel to him. I wanted to say something to make him feel half as bad as I felt, but to be honest, there really wasn't anything I could think of. What was I supposed to say? You look just like your father, and he was a prat? Yeah, like he hasn't heard that one before.

So instead, I just walked off, trying to ignore just how much he bothered me with what he'd said, heading towards the door. When I glanced over my shoulder, I saw Hermione sit beside Harry, and immediately he pointed at me and said something, She looked over her shoulder and stared at me with a curious expression on her face, then turned back around and whispered to him.

I left the library, knowing that I was scowling, and wishing that I hadn't opened my mouth in the first place.

* * *

I watched as the Dark Lord killed my latest torture victim, a woman; a single mother. She'd been easier to get information out of than the others. She screamed much louder than the others too, and sobbed, and begged for mercy. She was a muggle who just happened to see something strange; something the Dark Lord didn't want her to see. I just had to extract how many people she'd told, which equalled her six-year-old son, and then torture her until the Dark Lord believed that she really hadn't told anybody else. To be honest he knew damn well she hadn't told anybody else; I actually think he just liked watching me torture her. 

I watched as she fell to the ground, and knew that soon her son would share. I tried not to think about it.

"Our dear friend Draco told me something interesting about you," he said coolly, as if he knew something that I didn't, and he was making some sort of private joke. I looked at him, waiting, knowing not to push him, or try to persuade him to tell me the story. He smiled mirthlessly at me, his red eyes meeting mine. "He saw you speaking to Harry Potter in the library."

"Yes, I was, Master."

"I don't need your confirmation," he snapped, suddenly angry, gliding towards me, starting to circle me, his voice high and spiteful. "What I am interested in, Danielle, is what you have to talk about with the boy. Surely it must have been of great importance."

I blinked at him, feeling awkward, but blocking off my mind so he wouldn't know. "I was telling him that we were related, sir," I answered truthfully. "I thought that if he knew of our relation, he might be able to open up to me, and I'd have information on him."

"Information that you have not gotten, I take it, considering you haven't said one word about him to me, though I have asked you to watch him?"

This was turning very bad, very suddenly. Of course I hadn't had any information on him. I didn't know anything of interest that he didn't already know! "Yes, Master," I agreed, not knowing what else to do. "He wouldn't know that we were related, because I didn't keep my dad's last name."

"Hmm, but a rose by another name, surely, would smell just as sweet?" he taunted, narrowing his red eyes at me, and I felt my stomach drop to the floor. It was as though a cold hand gripped my heart and yanked it. That could not be good. "I grew up in a muggle orphanage, and they couldn't very well not have the filth uneducated, could they? It seems that you have been reading muggle literature. And why, pray tell, would you want to do that?"

"I read it a long time ago, Master."

"Crucio!" he shouted.

And all I knew was pain. A hot, blinding pain shot through me, coursing through every bone in my body, slamming through every inch of me. I was being torn from the inside, each second more agonizing than the last. I had no thought, no knowledge, except for the searing pain he forced me to bear. Each bone ached, every inch of my skin burned, each second brought more. I would surely die of this agony, there could not be life after this, no, this was surely hell . . .

And it stopped, jstu as suddenly as it had started.

I was on the ground, my own scream echoing slightly, my throat hoarse, and my body aching slightly. There was some stinging on my chest area--it was nothing compared to the pain I'd felt just a few seconds earlier--and saw eight gashes, bleeding, four on the right side of my chest, four on the other side. They looked suspiciously like nail marks . . . I glanced at my nails and saw blood, and some red hair was wound around my fingers, stuck in my nails, mixing with my blood.

I slowly stood up, a small throbbing on the back of my head, my body still aching at the reminder of the crucio spell. I blocked my mind quickly before I could do anything else, and stared him right in the eyes, jutting my chin out as I had seen Draco do occasionally, but keeping my posture straight as Severus did.

"Long time ago or not, Danielle, you are not to be quoting muggle filth. Draco, of course, did not understand that it was muggle, and when I asked where he'd heard it, he said from you. You are not the only one I call out of Hogwarts, Danielle--and Lucius is more than willing to retrieve his son. It is not prudent to be seen with our enemy either. One would think you actually liked the boy."

I guarded my thoughts carefully while he stared into my eyes.

Obviously I did it well, considering he lowered his wand and glared at me sternly. "I will not have any more of this nonsense, Danielle. Now, in order for you to make up for you mistake, I'm going to send you to take care of the problem with her son. He's in the other room, of course, we brought them here at the same time. No need to gather information--I just need you to rid me of him entirely. Take as long as you like. But I will need to see his body as proof."

I nodded although the motion made me sick. I knew what her son looked like--I'd seen him in her memories. They'd both seen something they shouldn't have, hadn't told a single soul, but were still going to die. I was going to kill a little kid.

"Come this way," he said, keeping an eye on me, and I knew he was still waiting for me to betray my cool demeanour. He was waiting for a tear. He was waiting for me to let my guard sown and show that I I couldn't do it. He wanted me to do something--anything--to disprove my loyalty to him. I had made one simple mistake--a slip of the tongue--and he was waiting for me to make another one. He did not trust me.

Every single part of me was telling me to run away, screaming. Each molecule in my body was begging me to kill him. My stomach churned, bile threatening to move into my throat, making me vomit. I couldn't breath. I could see properly. Each move I made seemed too real, like I was slowly waking from a dream, and it was fading away slowly.

Killing my mum was one thing--she had wanted it. At the time, when I'd first killed her, I had hated myself, and hated her for wanting it. Now that it was months later, and yes I still got depressed and sick when I thought about it, my only real comfort was that she had begged me to do it. She had not been innocent--far from it. She had killed people, and enjoyed it. A little kid was not like that.

He walked me to another room in Malfoy Manor, then stopped me in front of it, smirking evilly at me, his red eyes staring directly into mine. "This muggle boy saw something that jeopardizes our goal, Danielle. Kill him. Torture. Do as you like. But when you are done, take his body to me in the drawing room. I will know if you leave without seeing me. Then, we will burn his body in the fireplace to make sure he is really dead. You have displeased me Danielle, and now you must prove yourself to me again. Seeing as I know you like to torture, do what you feel is necessary."

He then left me, looking very pleased with himself.

I stood in front of that door a few seconds, suddenly very nauseous. Even though I only stood in front of that door for a few second, it seem liked forever. I watched my actions as though I wasn't really doing it--like I was watching it through someone else's eyes. I became detached. I felt the cold doorknob in my hands and I turned it, but it didn't really feel like I had done it, like someone was making me do it . . .

I walked into the room and I saw him. The room he was in was like a separate family room, one with a fireplace and a couch in front of the fire. The boy was tied to a chair, duct tape on his mouth, his bright blue eyes wet and small frame looking so strange in the large room surrounded by large portraits of the Malfoy family.

He saw me and began screaming, but the screams were muffled by the duct tape. He was so small and innocent. Having seen some of his mother's memories of him, I always knew he liked to play with toy cars. The cold fist around my heart squeezed even tighter, and I was suddenly very dizzy.

I locked the door behind me and walked over to him, watching him squirm in his seat. He had a small cut above his eyebrow that was bleeding into his eye, and a small dark bruise underneath it. Someone had hit him.

I felt a tear spring into my eyes when I saw more tears run down his face and heard the harsh breath from his nose and saw his face redden. He was crying. His small frame shook. They'd only been here for a few hours, but I knew that someone had been in here while I was torturing his mother.

I grabbed the duct tape on his mouth and ripped it off. He screamed out and began sobbing even louder, begging for me to leave him alone, saying he wanted to see his mummy.

"Shh," I whispered, my voice cracking, hot tears streaming down my face, and emptiness filling me very suddenly. He was still screaming and thrashing around, his light brown hair damp with sweat, his thin mouth open and his lips moist, his round face wet.

He was a small kid. He was thin, and not very tall for his age. His blue jeans had holes in them, and he was wearing a blue-and-grey camouflage shirt that brought out his bright blue eyes. His clothes were a bit too big for him, but I could tell that they were well cared for (despite the holey knees) and he had a healthy look about him. He had a good life. I knew that--I'd seen his mother's memories.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's gonna be okay," I lied, my voice shaking with the tears that were still running down my voice, my voice rather higher than normal.

"Where's my mummy? I wanna go home!" he sobbed, still thrashing.

I put my hand on his small shoulder and I squeezed it. "I . . . I couldn't save her," I whispered, my chest tightening so much I thought that I wouldn't be able to breath, my eyes burning.

He stopped thrashing and looked at me, his bottom lip trembling. "You mean . . . the bad man killed her? A bad guy killed my mummy?"

"Yes . . . A very bad person killed your mummy."

"Am I gonna die too?"

I shook my head and smile at him, although it was forced, and I got the feeling of being stabbed in the gut. I brushed his damp hair from his forehead. My hand shook slightly, but I didn't think he noticed. "No, you're not gonna die," I lied again, my voice cracking slightly. My vision blurred until I blinked away the tears.

"You're a good guy?"

"Yes."

"Okay! You--You gotta know, I wasn't--I wasn't doing anything bad! I took a car from the store and mummy found out and she was taking me back and we saw a man shoot another man with green lightning and we tried to run away, but the man, he was fast, and he was white, and he was a monster, not even a real man, and he saw us, and he said we had to die! I was gonna give the car back I promise! And my mummy is dead 'cause I took the car but I didn't want it to happen!"

"No, no, it isn't your fault, I promise." I held his round head in my hands and stared into his eyes. I could have easily looked into his memories, but I didn't want to. I knew that if I did, I wouldn't be able to do what I needed to do. "I'm here to rescue you, okay? You're gonna have to trust me, all right?" I was so horrible. I was absolutely horrible. I did not deserve to live. But it was better for him to die, thinking he was free, than for him to die feeling scared. He already knew his mother was dead. Why make things even worse?

He nodded.

I came behind the chair and untied him, my hands shaking so badly I had to try several times. I could have used my wand. I didn't.

He hopped off of the chair, then ran to me, and wrapped his arms around my abdomen, crying into my stomach. I closed my eyes, wrapping my arms around him. He went up to my chest, his head in between my breasts, sobbing. He clutched the back of my robes, and I ran my hand through his light-brown hair. My eyes were closed, but I had already memorized what he looked like.

I finally opened my eyes and looked at all of the pictures. They were empty at the moment. I knew why, of course. Pictures were not allowed in the same room as someone doing business for the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord didn't want a picture going to another frame and telling someone what had happened, just in case they had another portrait in some other area, like the ministry. It amazed me how much thought the Dark Lord put into his plans, just how much effort he put into making sure he wasn't caught. I stared at the fireplace and at the Floo powder, very much wanting to shove the kid in there and send him somewhere safe, even if that meant the Dark Lord killed me.

I imagined it for awhile--what it would be like to go and tell the Dark Lord and let the kid go, and seeing a green light kill me. I imagined no longer having to live this life, and for a second, I welcomed it. I wanted to die, greater good be damned. Yes, this boy would live, and it would be okay. My death would be okay, I would sacrifice myself for him.

But I knew that I couldn't, just like I knew that I wouldn't.

I finally pulled away and went to my knee, so that I was eye level with him. He didn't hide his tears, nor did he look away. "So . . . How did you get here? Are you a cop?"

"No. I'm not a cop. I just . . . happened by." I brushed his hair away form his eyes, his bright blue eyes, and my eyes trailed over his features again. I held his thin forearms, my chin wobbling, my throat tightening. "What's your name?" I asked.

"Gabriel," he answered quietly.

"I'm Danielle."

His small hand went to my face, and he trailed his finger down my cheek, where my tears had fallen. "You're sad too. Did they kill your mummy too?"

I nodded slowly. "Yes."

"Can you do magic like the bad men can?"

I nodded slowly and stood up off of my knees. "Yes. I can." I looked at his innocent face, at his trusting, sad eyes. His mother loved him so much. She had told us what she knew immediately, just to spare this little boy, and the Dark Lord had made me torture her, just so he could see my reaction--see if I was still loyal to him, just like him making me kill this little boy, and burn his dead body.

"So how we getting out? They brought me through that fireplace--are we going through that fireplace? And there was a snake too, and the man talked to the snake, and he sounded like he was hissing like the snake, and then it went and then he show me his tattoo and then he made me hurt when he pointed his stick at me. Can you talk to snakes too? Can you make the snake fight him?"

I shook my head. "No, I can't talk to sna--"

My heart thumped hard against my chest.

I looked at the little boy, suddenly breathing heavily. I stuck out my wand, and thought of Severus kissing me on our first date, when he swept me into his arms, and when he snogged me against the wall at Grimmauld place . . . When he'd given me that snake . . .

"Expecto Patronum!"

A long, large, silvery-white snake shot out of my wand, and I fell to my knees in front of it. Hope filled me, sudden, blinding hope, and I didn't know if it was from the patronus or something else. "Find Severus. I need his help. I'm in the family room on the third floor in Malfoy Manor. It's next to the drawing room. There's a fireplace."

It slithered away and disappeared.

About ten seconds later, the fireplace exploded into green flames, and Severus stepped out. My heart leapt into my throat when his black eyes found mine, concern etched plainly onto his face. "Is everything all right? What's happened? He hasn't found out?" he demanded, striding right in front of me, holding my arms, completely overlooking Gabriel.

I shook my head. "No, he hasn't found out. I'm supposed to . . . take care of a problem. He saw the Dark Lord." I jerked my head in the direction of the boy. Severus pulled away from me and his eyes fell onto the boy. His face fell.

Gabriel furrowed his eyebrows, fiddling with the bottom of his grey-and-blue camouflage shirt. "Is he a good guy too?"

"Yes," I answered quickly, still looking at Severus, who looked extremely troubled. "He has doubts about me--I quoted Shakespeare, and he knew what it was--and this is supposed to prove my loyalty or something. But I can't do it." I knew I was going to get reprimanded later about quoting Shakespeare, but I didn't' care at the moment.

Severus looked at me, and I saw loathing etched on every inch of his face. He opened his mouth and it looked like he was going to reprimand me, then he shut it. His eyes shimmered slightly, then he took in a deep breath, the faced the boy again, jaw clenched and face turning a slight shade of red.

He then pointed his wand at Gabriel.

"Hey, what are you doing?" I asked, grabbing his wrist and pulling it down.

He looked at me incredulously. "What do you think I am doing?"

Suddenly, I understood. Severus thought I had called him to do my job for me. What shocked me even more was that he was going to do it. "Oh, my God, no, I would never . . . No, I asked your help so we could save him. There's got to be . . . Some way. The Dark Lord wants to . . . Burn the body afterwards, so I don't know how, but there's gotta be . . ."

"Burn what? Burn me?" Gabriel exclaimed shrilly, blue eyes wide.

"No, of course not," I said quickly.

Severus stared at me, his expression softened. I stared right back at him, my heart still pounding from when he'd pointed his wand at Gabriel. We looked at each other wheel Gabriel fidgeted, still tugging on the bottom of his shirt. He couldn't' have been older than seven, Severus and I knew this, and Severus had thought I had called him to kill the boy for me. And he had been going to do it.

"Do you know a Flame Freezing Charm?" he asked finally, a few minutes later of me trying to calm down Gabriel, who was getting exceedingly anxious.

"Yeah, we learned about them in History of magic my, uh, third year I think, and we practiced them in charms that year too. Why?"

* * *

I breathed as slowly and as little as I could, and I kept my eyes closed. My heart beat rapidly as Severus--who was now me, due to Polyjuice Potion--dragged me down the hall, almost carelessly. I let myself go limp, imagining that I looked like a rag doll.

Severus had gone back to Hogwarts and, seeing as he had Polyjuice Potion brewed in one of the store cupboards, brought enough back for me and him. Thank God Severus had hundreds of potions already brewed, as examples in his class, and for his own personal reasons. I had plucked a hair from Gabriel, Severus and plucked some of mine, and then asked I asked Gabriel to take off his clothes, with the exception of his underwear. We turned around as he did so. Severus had his cloak on, so he wrapped that around the boy and took him into the fireplace. I'd taken the potion and quickly changed into Gabriel's clothes, leaving my real clothes lying on the floor for Severus--including my underwear.

When he came back, he took off his robes. I turned around, of course, deciding that Severus probably wanted his privacy. When eh took the potion, I heard him gasp (well ,technically, I heard me gasp) and he asked for my help in putting on my bra. He'd kept his eyes closed while I dressed him in my clothes, my finger fumbling, since they were not really mine. I would have found it funny and sweet, Severus closing his eyes when he transformed into a naked me, had the situation not been so serious.

It felt strange, changing into a little boy I barely knew. Seeing as boys had certain parts girls didn't, it felt even stranger. I imagine it had been odd for Severus too.

I kept my wand hidden up in the Gabriel's--my--sleeve. I had Floo powder in my pocket. I had been told to do the freezing charm, and then use the Floo to go to Severus' quarters. I would have been lying if I said I wasn't nervous. If this didn't go correctly . . . Well ,I didn't want to think about how it would feel if I burned alive while Severus had to watch.

Severus dropped me on the ground. Even though my head clunked against eh ground, I didn't' make a single noise, and kept my eyes shut.

"You have killed him, I see. It took quite awhile, my dear. More than twenty minutes. I could hear him crying. How did he fare?"

"He thought I was there to rescue him, my lord," I heard myself reply in an even voice.

There was a moment's silence, but I didn't dare open my eyes to see if the Dark Lord was staring into my eyes or not, or if he was striding over to my 'dead' body. "Very well," the Dark Lord said in his smooth, cold voice. "Pick up the body, Danielle, and throw it into the fireplace. I will light the fire with my own wand."

I felt a smooth, warm hand wrap around my wrist and drag me across the floor. My heart thudded against my small chest even harder. He--or rather, me--picked my--Gabriel's--body up. I could smell the jasmine perfume on my clothes.

He plopped me into the fireplace, my back hitting the logs, dust and ash flying through the air, getting onto my face, and up my nose.

I opened my eyes a crack, and saw that I was facing the back of the fireplace, so I couldn't see myself or the Dark Lord. But I could reach into my sleeve and pull out the wand, and perform the freezing charm.

"Are you going to displease me again, Danielle?"

"No, my lord."

"Crucio," he spat.

I heard my own screams and I squeezed my eyes shut, clutching my wand tightly. My screams were very high-pitched, and a small sob broke through every now and then. I heard thrashing about on the floor, and cries, and screams, and sobs . . .

Finally, it stopped. The screaming stopped. I opened my eyes again, still looking at the back of the fireplace tears prickling.

"What will you not do again, Danielle?"

"I will not quote Shakespeare, my lord."

"Very well." And then flames surrounded me.

* * *

A/N--I knwo what you're thinking--"Harry wouldn't be a dick, and you're just making him seem that way 'cause you're a Snape fan." I want you all to know that I do like Harry. Remember what he was like in OotP? He was a bit snappy, yes, but that was what he was like in the fifth book, but Harry is also a noble perason, and her being nice to him allowed him to hear her through, even if he was a bit snappy. (My sister, who loves Harry coughdanielradcliffecoughcough, was disappointed, and so I thought I should explain it to her as well as you.) 

I could not have Danielle kill Gabriel. First of all, becasue she could not handle it, and second of all, because her killing her mother has to be the pinnacle of the horrible deeds she's done. She will kill and torture, of course she will, but I purposely made it so that the worst of what she does is kill her mother. Some of you may think this as a cop out, but Gabriel is important later on, as well as in the (possible) sequel.

Also, I have wanted this scene in here for quite a long time. It will make sense later on, I swear.


	35. Chapter 38

Chapter 38: Through the Floo

At first, I panicked when I whispered the spell. I thought for sure I had somehow bollixed this up too. I swore I could feel the fire, and I almost screamed when a sensation overcame me, automatically assuming the feeling was of me burning. After a few agonizing seconds when absolute fear rushed through me and I felt my skin burn and melt and I wondered whether or not I was going to hell or heaven and realizing that maybe death wouldn't be so bad, but at the same time wanting very much to stay alive, I realized that I was not burning.

In fact, I actually tickled.

My mind suddenly flashed back to Professor Binns, his ghostly form floating, intoning in his monotonous voice something about Wendelyn the Weird liking the feeling so much she purposely got caught several times and did the charm to experience the feeling. The only reason I even remembered that was because I'd spent all summer writing the damn report, and then he'd insisted on talking about it throughout the year, as well as the same goblin wars he always talked about. The only thing of interest that had even happen in that class was . . . Well, nothing interesting happened in that class, with the exception of the time Binns went off on the Chamber of Secrets that same year, saying something about some second year students asking about it, and he said he found that he would rather us hear the real story from him, then to hear some rumours the second years made up after hearing what he said.

For once, I was glad I went to History of Magic, because I never would have remembered the effects of the freezing charm had I not learned about something even more interesting that year, and had I not remembered, I probably would have screamed, and gotten Severus-as-me killed.

Charms had mentioned it too, now that I thought about it, but we didn't have to write a report on the effects as we did in History of Magic. Thank God for essays. For once.

I waited for a few second until I felt the logs underneath me start to transfigure, which was my cue to pull out the Floo powder. Honestly, Severus was a genius. Only several minutes of him thinking quietly to himself while I comforted the anxious Gabriel were enough for him to think of such an ingenious plan. I never would have thought of transforming myself into Gabriel, doing a freezing charm and then Flooing myself to Severus' quarters when Severus, transformed into me, transfigured the logs into the burning corpse of a six-year-old boy. I didn't ask how Severus knew what a burning corpse looked like.

"Severus' quarters," I whispered, although clearly, and threw the powder.

As soon as the powder hit the floor, I realized the flaw in the plan. When using the Floo, fire turned green, and surely the Dark Lord would notice that. It was too late though--I'd thrown the powder.

Before I could change my mind or do anything, I was swirling through the Floo, mind entirely blank, me realizing just how much danger Severus was in. I imagined Severus, in my body, falling to the floor while I toppled safely into his quarters.

When I smacked against his floor, coughing, my frail body covered in soot, I lied there for several seconds, tears forming in my eyes. I tried to remember if the fire had turned green or not, but I really couldn't remember if they had. I knew that they had, of course, they always did, but I was praying that for some freak reason they hadn't. I imagined Severus giving me special Floo powder. I imagined Severus, tossing my hair over my shoulder and bending over, forcing the Dark Lord to admire my arse as I bent over, which was just ridiculous. It was just as ridiculous as me imagining myself pointing away from the fire and exclaim, "Look at that!" just as the fire went green.

In my selfish moment of being unable to kill a little boy, knowing that I should have, knowing that it was the only real way for me to continue being a Death Eater. Killing one boy meant saving thousands of others, and I hadn't been able to do it. Why? Because I didn't want to. Not because I was being noble, not because it was the right thing to do (even though, technically, killing him and saving thousands of others would have been the 'right' thing, wouldn't it?) but because I couldn't. I didn't' want to. And what had I done? Brought Severus, making him deal with my own problem, making him make up a plan on the spot, making him die for me. I was so selfish.

But how could killing Gabriel have been the right thing? He was just a little boy! But did that mean he was any more deserving of life than the thousands of other boys that will die because I was found out? The Order had lost their spy--the good one. What did I do? Torture people for the Dark Lord, then tell the Order what the Dark Lord found out, and then tell them of those on the path of becoming a Death Eater. I told them of future muggle torture parties, as well, but really, what Severus did was so much more important. Because of me, they had lost him.

When the Polyjuice Potion wore off, my dead body would turn into Severus, and the Dark Lord would realize what had happened, and hunt me down. If he got rid of the body, he would realize what had really happened as soon as he tried to contact Severus. As soon as Draco mentioned me in a passing sentence.

I had to hide now. Either that, or somehow go find Severus' dead body, take him back with me, and steadily pluck as little hair as possible and turn into Severus and be him for the rest of the war.

What had I done?

"Hey, is you okay?" I heard Gabriel say.

I finally stood up off of the ground and brushed the soot and ash from my clothing. I turned around to face Gabriel, and saw him stare at me in confusion and shock. He walked slowly towards me, wrapping the too-large-for-him cloak that Severus had given him around his shoulders. I remembered he was only wearing his tightie-whities. It must have been very strange to look at me, considering I looked just like him.

"It's me, Danielle," I said, in his voice. It was the first time I had spoken louder than a whisper in the boy's voice, and it disoriented me.

"Oh, this is magic again. Magic is sometimes good. That's what the dark man said." He nodded importantly, like what he said was extremely profound.

I chuckled a little bit at Gabriel calling Severus the dark man, and my eyes prickled when I realized what had happened because of me. "Yes, it is. Magic just saved your life," I said. _And killed Severus,_ I added to myself.

"Well, the dark man said he needed to tell me that, 'cause he said that the magic _I_ experienced was bad. He was really nice. He gave me juice, but I didn't drink it, 'cause Mummy always told me not to drink stuff strangers give me." He frowned and he looked downward, tears surfacing again. "He said that bad magic killed my mummy. But that good magic is here where he took me. He was really surprised when I could see his room. He asked me what I saw, if it was ruins or something, but when I said his room, he looked at me funny. But he said that he was a good wizard, and you were a good witch, and I asked if you were like Glenda, and he made a funny noise and said he hoped you wasn't, and that you had apparently learned to talk from a real person other than a cartoon or something. He was funny. But then he gave me juice, and I'm not supposed to take juice from strangers." He shuffled uncomfortably, wrapping the cloak around him tighter.

My eyes prickled some more, even though I laughed a little. I knew the 'funny noise' Severus made was him scoffing. I just thought it was funny that Gabriel thought of him as nice and funny, since most wouldn't.

"Can I have my clothes back now?"

"Oh, yeah," I muttered, shaking my head back into reality. I took off his grey-and-blue camouflage shirt and then remembered I wasn't wearing any underwear, and I hesitated on the button on his pants. I looked at him. "Er . . ."

"I've seen my willy before. But close your eyes!"

I chuckled and closed my eyes, taking off my pants, stumbling a bit. I felt him hand me the cloak and I wrapped around myself blindly, and listened to him get dressed. I heard him grunting, then he sighed. "Can you button my pants?"

I opened my eyes, then kept the cloak around me with one hand while I tried to button up his pants. My fingers were smaller and les dexterous, plus I wasn't used to his body, so I wasn't' doing any better than he was. I couldn't get the button through the little slit on his jeans. "Dammit, I can't get it through. Why not just wear snaps?" I grumbled, sounding very much like a petulant kid.

"I'm a big boy now. Mummy said if I could wear button pants for a whole week, she would take me for ice cream. Tomorrow is a week, but . . ." He trailed off, then started crying.

I brought him against me with one arm, using the other to keep myself covered. He sobbed into my/his shoulder, and I petted his hair.

The fire glowed green and we both screamed shrilly, him bounding over the couch and hiding behind the back. I picked up my wand from the ground and pointed it at the person emerging form the fireplace.

It was me. I was covered in soot, but it was definitely me. Which meant that it was Severus. He was carrying his robes.

"Severus!" I cried, running over to him, and rapping my free arm around him, knocking the robes out of his hands. My head went directly between my breasts, and I felt awkward having my head there, but I didn't care seeing as he was live.

Gabriel came running around the couch, jumping onto Severus too, wrapping his arms around him. "Dark Man!" he cried happily. "I know it's you, even if you look like Danielle, 'cause this is good magic!"

Dark Man sounded like some sort of superhero. Saving the world with one snarky comment at a time.

"Not that I don't appreciate this much enthusiasm and appreciation when I come into a room, but would you let go of me?" he said in my voice. It was so strange hearing my voice say that. It almost sounded flirtatious, with the smooth voice and sarcastic undertone.

I pulled away from him--me--and saw my eyebrow raise, although there was a small half-smile on my face. My green eyes slid from me and to the real Gabriel. "Why aren't you asleep? I thought I gave you a Dreamless Sleep Potion?"

"I don't drink juice from strangers. Mummy always said not to drink stuff from strangers--she said there could be drugs in them." He nodded importantly and put his hand behind his back. "I'm seven years old, and a big boy, so I know about drugs."

I remembered seeing a memory of his mother's, and understood exactly why she would tell him not to drink anything a stranger gives him. There was a reason why she was a single mother.

"I assure you, it will only help you sleep. It's good magic. My name is Severus, her name is Danielle. What is your name?"

"Gabriel."

"We are no longer strangers." He pointed to the door leading to his room. "Now, there is a bed in there for you. Take your juice, and drink it in there. It is extremely potent, and you may fall asleep instantly."

Gabriel looked between us, then went over to the table and picked up the potion. He was shirtless, so he also picked up his shirt, then turned to Severus. My red hair framed my face like curtains shielding my green eyes partially, although I could still see the vivid emerald of my irises. I would have tossed the hair away from my eyes, but I suppose he didn't mind it too much.

He stopped in front of us. "Are you two married?"

"No," he answered.

"Do you have sex? Mummy says sometimes people who aren't married have sex."

Severus and I looked at each other, and I cleared my throat, then smiled at the real Gabriel. "Do you even know what sex is?"

"I am seven. It's when . . . You know, a boy's . . . well, boys and girls have different parts that . . . Well, sometimes, they . . . Go together. Mummy says I should wait until I'm married, but it's okay if I do it with someone I really, really love and I'm ready. Personally, I think it's gross. And did you know that a special pee goes into a girls tummy, makes a new tummy, and then tadpoles turn into a baby? Mummy made me watch a weird movie when I asked where babies came from. I think she should have just said from mummy, 'cause it still doesn't make any sense. She told me last month. I'm seven, you know. I turned seven in December. So I will be eight soon."

I furrowed my eyebrows. I remembered seeing his sixth birthday, which was why I assumed he was six. "Oh, I thought you were six. Didn't you have a seventh birthday party?"

"I had pneumonia, so I was in the hospital. It wasn't very good. But have you had sex? Are you gonna have a baby?"

"No, and I think it's time for you to go to bed," Severus said sternly.

Gabriel nodded, although he looked a little irritated. He started towards the door, but then he turned back. "I'm sorry your mummy died too. If you can use your magic to tell my mummy I love her, will you?"

There was a sudden ache in my heart, and when I glanced at Severus, I noticed that my body and face looked uncomfortable. He looked away from Gabriel. I went over to him, starting into his eyes wince we were the same height, and put my small hand on his small shoulder. "You can do that. Praying is magic, too," I whispered.

He nodded, then walked away, going into the room.

I turned back to Severus. "How did you get here? Didn't the Dark Lord see the fire turn green?"

"Of course not. I am capable of glamour charms."

I felt incredibly stupid.

"We need to talk, Danielle," he said quietly, gesturing over to the couch.

I went over to the couch and hopped onto it, my short feet not long enough to touch the floor. I watched as Severus pulled off my robes and tossed them on the ground, standing there in my underwear. He looked down at my body for a few second, then quickly grabbed his black robes, looked up, and shimmied into them. The bottom of his robes flopped onto the ground, and hung on my body like an enormous blanket. He then took off my underwear from beneath the robes, put on his underwear, then pulled his hands into his robes, apparently trying to unhook my bra. He sat there for longer than it really should have taken, but I figured he didn't have much experience with taking off a bra, especially while wearing something, so I waited patiently.

He tossed that to the ground, and nodded to himself. "Why do you wear those constricting garments? Do they serve any purpose other than binding?"

"They keep my boobs perky," I answered, realizing how odd that sounded coming from a little boy.

I watched as Severus blinked my big green eyes. "In that case, continue."

I almost laughed, but then his face went extremely serious.

"You will have to kill a child eventually, and you will not be so lucky as to do what happened tonight. You cannot save every person you are confronted with."

I knew he was right, but I couldn't bring myself to agree. Just thinking about it made my stomach churn, and a cold, icy feeling move into my chest.

"The Dark Lord does not have friends, do you understand? He has no qualms in killing any of his followers--including those he deems his most loyal, such as myself or Bellatrix. He may become irritated at other disposing of us, but that is all. He only has followers and enemies, both are pawns, neither of which he trusts, nor cares about."

I nodded slowly, feeling somewhat bad for his followers. As people, they weren't so bad. Some might view the Malfoy family as straight-up evil, just like the Nott family, but really, having spoke with them in normal conversation, they're just like everyone else .And they really believe in what the yare fighting for. I don't' really think any of them think of themselves as evil. Well, except maybe the Dark Lord. Of course, some of them were downright evil--like Mrs. Zabini, who killed all of her husbands. They actually believed the Dark Lord cared about them, as they did for him, or at leas as they cared for their children, or the goal. Really, they weren't that bad . . . I actually sometimes imagined having Lucius and Narcissa as my parents. Even though they were a bit commanding and sometimes a bit stand-offish, they really loved Draco. I never got that from my mother.

"You will have to do more to gain his trust back. I have been through this before--twice. When I asked him to spare Lily, and when I was late for the meeting when he first returned. The second time was easily taken care of, seeing as I had information on Dumbledore, but . . . The first . . .

"The reason he was not with you in the room as you were supposed to kill Gabriel and why he gave you time to do the deed was to give you a chance to run away with the child, to see if you would. He would have checked on you after an hour. The next thing he will make you do is kill someone in front of him, and the last thing he will make you do is join a fellow death eater in killing an entire family. Seeing as he has compared you to Bellatrix, it will most likely be her, considering she has . . . escaped."

I nodded slowly, accepting what he had to say. It wasn't what I wanted to hear, but it was true, and I knew it. But I had saved one child, I hoped that would be enough.

"You are at a disadvantage, I know this. Unlike you, when I first became a Death Eater, it was what I wanted. Of course, there were tasks even then I found mildly disturbing, but I viewed them as an end to the means. It wasn't until I realized how cruel he was--how little he cared for even his followers--and killed the one I loved that I realized what I was doing. I was taking . . . Loved ones from others. Btu there was a time when I believed in what I was doing. You do not have that to use. But that does not mean you can afford to become lazy, or careless."

I nodded sadly, trying to keep my tears from falling, wrapping the cloak around me tighter.

He came over to me, having to hold up the end of his robes, like it was an overlong dress, so that he wouldn't trip on it. He sat beside me, his head titled to the side, my red hair dangling slightly, my green eyes intense. "Danielle, there is more to convincing the Dark Lord of loyalty than just Occlumency, do you understand? The Dark Lord knows that there are others besides himself capable of blocking memories and bringing forth false ones. If one's gestures, for example, or actions contradict the image one is trying to project, the Dark Lord will notice."

"I know. I just couldn't do it. And . . . And I should have been smarter than to talk to Harry or quote Shakespeare."

"Why would you want to speak to that infernal boy?" he spat and snarled. Boy, I could sound really mean, couldn't I?

"Well, I wanted to tell him that we were, you know . . . related. He didn't really like hearing it."

Severus looked extremely displeased with me. Even though it was my face, I recognised the narrowed eyes and pursed lips. "There is no need for him to know of your relation."

"Yeah, well, he knows I'm a Death Eater, and he hates me because I look like his mum and work for the man who killed her, so don't worry about me going off and becoming best friends with him," I spat, sounding extremely petulant with my little boy voice. "And it wont' happen again, 'cause the Dark Lord wasn't very pleased when he found out."

"Danielle, you must learn to think before you act! Had you not mentioned the Shakespeare quote, he may have found out our ruse! Don't you understand? We managed tonight through luck!" I thought he was being a bit too modest, considering what he thought of was genius, but I kept my mouth shut. I had never realized just how much like my mother I sounded like when I was angry.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. It was all I could make myself say.

"Had anything gone wrong--any one thing--" He broke off, apparently in no mood to explain what could have happened. Either that, or he was unnerved by how my voice got slightly higher-pitched. "I cannot come and do this every time."

I nodded. "I know. I'm sorry. I . . . I didn't realize . . ."

"The result of your actions? You hardly ever do. I realize that you never had an appropriate family, and perhaps you thought Potter would accept you and then you would, but you must think! Think before you act! Had you not displeased the Dark Lord by your actions, we would not have had to deal with this! Do you realize that I was about to kill a young child for you? Do you not understand just how severe your situation is? This is all for the greater good--a means to an end, don't you see? You cannot continue on like this! You must always know how to act, whether or not the Dark Lord is around!" I heard my voice break and I looked him in confusion, noticing that my green eyes were wet. He seemed to have noticed the emotion in his/my voice and looked away suddenly.

I stared at him for a few second, head bowed, red hair hanging and obscuring his face. I reached forward and brushed away the hair so I could look into his eyes. His green eyes shimmered slightly, and I realized he was trying not to cry.

"I'm . . . I'm sorry," I whispered, and he turned his head towards me again. "And, uh . . . thank you, for doing what you did. It was brave, and smart. But you're right, I guess. I shouldn't have to make you always do stuff for me. It was selfish. But I just couldn't . . ."

He looked at me, and it looked like he was about to say something, but the n he tilted his head and furrowed his eyebrows . I wondered just what he was looking at, when suddenly I shot up, hair sprouted from my head, violently red, and breasts popped out of my chest. I shrieked and held the cloak around me tighter, realizing that I was fully naked underneath, and I felt my cheeks burn.

He politely looked away but gestured at the clothes he had discarded earlier. I got up and waited for him to turn around. I quickly got dressed, feeling awkward, knowing that I was blushing, and pretty sure that I wouldn't be able to speak for a few seconds. I dropped the cloak and cleared my throat. "Um, I'm done now," I said meekly.

He turned around, and he shot up, becoming taller, hair shortening slightly and turning back, as his eyes turned black also. Apparently our hour was up.

"Our problem is far from over, Danielle. We now have to deal with Gabriel. Does he have any family members? I know that you know, Danielle--it is the first thing you look for when performing legilimency."

I cleared my throat and looked down, knowing that he was right. Most people would give in easier if their family was dragged in, and if I made comments about their personal memories. "No. His grandfather died of a heart attack, his grandmother--well, she's in a rest home. She's got Alzheimer's."

Severus nodded, then put his hands behind his back. "His father?"

I looked away, feeling rather uncomfortable. I had looked for the father of her son obviously, thinking perhaps she had told him, and was quite disturbed at what I saw. "Er . . . His father, er . . . Well, she went on vacation to America, and met a man there at the bar. She was young, probably my age--her parents were with her. They were staying at a hotel or something, I'm not sure, and he offered to make her some coffee. He was really nice, and she was too trusting . . . He made her coffee. When she smelled it ,she said it smelled like hazelnut, and she loved hazelnut . . . The steam was rising in spirals, Severus."

Severus understood what I was saying, and he looked just as disturbed as I felt. "Amortentia," he said with an obvious amount of disgust. "It can't have lasted long. It's in its most potent form when unmixed."

He understood. I nodded, feeling a little queasy. It wasn't something I wanted to talk about--well, I knew very few people who would like to talk about it. So far, I hadn't met any Death Eaters that had done what that man did to her. Or at least, nobody had told me--I'm sure it had happened. "He managed to woo her and get her to the bed, but . . . Well, it didn't last long, and he had to . . . You know, force it halfway through when the potion wore off."

Severus frowned and I noticed he fidgeted slightly. Nobody liked to talk about rape, and I suppose he was no exception. Thank God. I moved on. "Anyway, she didn't tell anybody, and when her parents found out she was pregnant . . . They sort of . . . Disowned her. I thinks eh blamed herself, though, because I remember her saying to her mum that if she would have been open earlier, then maybe they could have . . . Had a better relationship, I guess. I didn't delve too much into that. I didn't even talk about it with her. She was already willing to die for Gabriel. I didn't want to bring that up."

Severus nodded in understanding. "I had suspected as much. He did not see ruins when I brought him here. I suppose we will have to take this situation up with Dumbledore."

I nodded, realizing something and I felt even worse. "He's a half-blood, and so far, all the magic in his life has been . . . Well, unpleasant. He has no family. God, maybe it would have been merciful to just let him die . . ." My voice cracked, and my hand went to my eyes to hide them from Severus. I didn't want him seeing me crying. I sniffled into my palm when I felt my wet tears on my hand.

I felt his hand on my shoulder and I looked up at him, biting my bottom lip and trying to not cry more. He brushed away my red hair and shook his head. "We will deal with this. I will not allow you to second-guess what has happened. Not after what we went through to get him here."

I nodded slowly, and he pulled me into a hug, wrapping his arms around me. I wrapped my arms around him and closed my eyes, trying not to think about how Gabriel's life was going to be now that he had no real family. I had taken that from him. I tried not to think about how he would feel when he found out he was a half-blood, and he was going to become a permanent part in the world that had, so far, given him the shit end of the stick.

We held each other, Severus kissing the side of my head gently and rubbing my back. "It'll be so hard for him, dealing with this," I whispered into his chest.

"We will deal with this. Life is not fair, nor is it always a gift. But we make due. Life is harsh and unforgiving, and uncaring, just as nature is, just as we all know, despite what we tell ourselves. His mother, obviously, did not hide the truth from him, nor shall we. Perhaps Gabriel has learned that lesson far earlier than one would ever want to . . . But he is alive, and we should not wish otherwise."

I nodded against his chest, breathing in his scent, loving the feel of his arms around me, just letting myself go in that moment. "Severus," I whispered, clutching onto the back of his robes. I felt rather than heard him hum, as if to encourage me to continue speaking. "I love you, you know that?" I felt like I had to tell him. Gabriel's mother wanted to say it to Gabriel before she died. She didn't get a chance to. It made my chest hurt thinking about that, and my eyes burn.

"Yes," he answered quietly a second later.

"I thought you were dead. I thought that the fire would turn green, and he would know I flooed out, and then he would kill you . . . I was so scared. I don't want you to die." My voice squeaked slightly with emotion. I was trying not to cry. "And I would never ask you to kill someone for me. I'm sorry you thought that was what I wanted."

He pulled away, keeping his arms around me, but looking down on me with his eyes intense as always. "It's what I've come to expect, Danielle. It is not your fault I came to that conclusion."

"I just wanted you to know that," I said.

He nodded slowly, apparently lost in thought. He stared at me for while, brushing my hair away from my face again, and looking at me strangely, as if he'd never seen me before and was trying to commit my face to his memory.

"I love you," he said, in a somewhat strained voice.

I couldn't speak. He'd never said that to me before. I knew he had feelings of course, but love? It had never even crossed my mind that he loved me as I love him--in my mind, it would always be Lily. The world seemed to stop. He loved me. Why he realized this so suddenly, I didn't know, but my heart was thudding hard in my chest, although slower than usual, and I felt like this had to be a dream . . .

He stepped away from me and looked away for a moment, like he was disturbed at something I had said. He looked at me again, put his arms behind his back, and I knew that I had to be staring at him blankly. I couldn't think of what else to do.

"I will retrieve you in the morning, when Gabriel awakes," he stated, acting as though nothing interesting had happened.

"I love you too," I said, finally finding my voice, still surprised that he had said he loved me. One side of his mouth lifted at what I had said, then he nodded once. "I'll be sleeping on the couch." With that, I turned around and left his room, still somewhat dazed, knowing that I would be grinning in my sleep, if I fell asleep at all.

* * *

A/N--before anyone criticizes me for saying Binns told the story about the Chamber of Secrets instead of McGonagall, I would like to point out that McGonagall only told the students in the movie, and that Binns said it in the book.

Also, it is only in the movie that the drinker of the Polyjuice potion retains his or her original voice. In the book, Harry and Ron sound like Crabbe and Goyle.


	36. Chapter 39

Chapter 39: Family Matters

"Danielle," Severus whispered, brushing my hair away from my face.

His low tone woke me suddenly, but I couldn't open my eyes. I was still drifting off into sleep, my head heavy . . .

When I felt his lips on my forehead and him brush my hair form my face again, I slowly opened my eyes, although I was still tired. He was leaning above me, the fire still lit, but only barely, so I could barely see how the golden-red light from the fire flickered across his face. His face was a few inches from mine, his hand cupping my cheek.

"What time is it?" I asked quietly.

"Five."

"Gabriel woke up at five?"

"No, we are going to wake him. You have classes today, and I would like to have this situation brought to Dumbledore before then. Perhaps we will have enough time to remedy it." He tilted his head to the side, the bent down and kissed my forehead again, his eyes searching my face. "Come," he ordered gently before pulling away form me, sitting beside my feet.

I nodded and slowly sat up on the couch, rubbing my eyelids. I yawned and stretched, still unable to get the sleep from my eyes. I stood up and smiled at him. "Okay. Good thing I slept on the couch, then, huh? I don't think the other girls would've appreciated being woke up at five."

"It was very considerate of you to sleep on the couch. I imagine the other students might have thought it . . . Inappropriate, if they woke and saw me looming over your bed, then stealing you away in the middle of the night."

I furrowed my eyebrows, yawning briefly again. "I just slept out here 'cause guys can't go in the girls' dormitory."

"The Head of said House can, despite gender. I retrieved a pair of robes for you when Millicent Bulstrode Vanished your clothes, remember?"

I blushed, remembering all too well the time I'd run through a crowd in only my bra and underwear, and Severus had made a joke about him being well-endowed.

We stood up off of the couch and I walked through the dark dungeons tiredly, my eyes only half-open, strange, half-formed thought running through my head. I usually didn't get up for at least another hour, except for the few occasions I decided to sleep a little later. I suppose it didn't help that I'd had a hard time falling asleep the night before. Severus had told me he loved me, and he had meant it. All night long I kept replaying those three words in my mind, not really understanding why it had affected me so much. It was like tripping over my own feet--everything was going smoothly, normally, and all of a sudden, a lurch came out of nowhere, and all train of thought stopped. I couldn't' figure out why it had caught me so off guard, him saying that, and why I'd been speechless for a few seconds, although I'd told him I'd loved him, and it was true.

But I realized late into the night why it had affected me that way, and it was because I had never expected him to love me at all. I don't' know how I'd imagined this relationship going, I never really imagined the future at all, really. I just thought about the present, and what to do in the present, and how to act at that moment. I didn't think of how the future might be, or how I might affect it. I just thought of the now. And I had never thought he would love me, and now that he did, I realized that there was a future between us . . . And I realized that I could hurt him as much as he could hurt me, and the thought terrified me, just as much as it excited me. We loved _each other, _even if he didn't love me as much as he loved Lily, he _still loved me._

Nobody had ever loved me before. Well, except my father, but the only real memories I had of him were when I saw a snake for the first time, and when my mother killed him. Someone loved me. I was _loved._ And I loved him back.

When we made it to his quarters, which seemed to take much longer than it probably really had, I immediately went over to his couch and lied on it, closing my eyes. I was only going to rest my eyelids for a second, not sleep. I wasn't going to sleep. I just wanted to think about my situation is all.

Poor Gabriel. He was a half-blood, and he didn't even know it. All of his experiences in magic were horrible. His first memory of magic would be the Dark Lord killing some random muggle, and torturing him, and listening to his mother's screams from a nearby room . . . Just like my first experiences with magic were unpleasant. My first memories were harsh and violent too, starting with my mother killing my dad . . .

And my mother _was_ killing my dad. I could see them, quite plainly, my father walking into the living room, picking me up form the ground and holding me in the air, spinning me slightly, and bringing me down to kiss my nose, before he sat me back down . . . My mother waltzed into the living room, and pointed her wand at my father, face set with determination . . . I was watching innocently, unaware of what was going on, not understanding why my dad looked so frightened while she walked nearer, lip in a snarl . . . I could feel warm air on my mouth, and a heavy pressure on my chest . . .

I opened my eyes and screamed shrilly, jumping violently. Gabriel was kneeling on my chest, face so close to mine our noses were touching. He shrieked too and flailed his arms about, trying to keep balance so he wouldn't' fall off of me since I'd jumped, and I grabbed his arms and held him still so that he wouldn't hit the ground. My heart was beating violently and rapidly in my chest.

"Bloody hell, Gabriel, you scared me!" I shouted, finally letting go of his arm and putting my head on the arm of the couch, letting out a relaxed breath. Severus started chuckling from the table, which was set up in front of the couch, apparently amused and what had happened.

"Dark Man wanted me to wake you up. Said we needed to go talk to Dumbledore."

"His name is Severus. And you could've said something rather than just sitting on my chest like that."

"I did. I told you to wake up. You said something about Sandra. But I'm not Sandra, I'm Gabriel." I blinked a few times, realizing that I'd been talking in my sleep. I slowly sat up, Gabriel scrambling off of my chest and sitting beside me while I put my head in my hands. "You kept saying 'dad' too."

I nodded slowly and looked at Severus, who stopped chuckling when he realized what I had been dreaming about. He furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head to the side. "Sandra?" he repeated slowly.

"Mum's middle name. Mum told me that Dad called her that whenever he got mad at her--she said it frustrated her because it was like he was treating her like a little kid. You know how parents call you by your middle name when they're mad."

"I know! My mummy would always say 'Gabriel, what are you doing?'"

"But, your name _is_ Gabriel."

"Yeah, but it is my middle name. I don't like my first name."

"What's your first name."

"I don't wanna tell you. It's a stupid name. It has a bad word in it." He folded his arms and pursed his lips, giving me an ask-me-and-I'll-kill-you glare.

Severus and I looked at each other. Severus looked just as confused as I did--who would name their kid a swear word?

"My mother didn't even acknowledge the fact I had a middle name," I muttered darkly, scowling. Of course she wouldn't. It was Lily, after all. And she hadn't liked Lily.

Gabriel raised his eyebrows. "Wow, she never got mad at you? I wish my mum never got mad at me." He frowned and looked away, his bright blue eyes watery suddenly.

Feeling suddenly very awkward, I cleared my throat. "No, no, my mum got mad at me plenty of times, she just never called me Lily, is all. She didn't like the name."

"Your middle name is Lily?" Severus asked quietly from the table he sat at, looking at me strangely.

I nodded, feeling quite stupid for blurting it out.

"I think that's a pretty name," Gabriel said a bit defensively, glaring at Severus like he had somehow insulted me. I understood. Gabriel had misunderstood Severus and thought he was insulting me, when he was just unnerved by the fact my middle name was Lily.

Severus blinked, apparently surprised at how dark a tone a seven-year-old could have. "It is a very beautiful name. I had not known this." Gabriel visibly relaxed, then sat on the couch with a slight slouch in his back. He was wearing the same clothes he'd worn yesterday.

"Did you parents call you Severus all the time?" Gabriel asked, tilting his head, so that his longish light brown hair shifted. "I like your name. Sounds cool, like a movie name. All strong and stuff. I am Severus!" he said epically, standing straight up and putting his hands on his hips. I giggled a little and I saw Severus smile at that. "I saw that in a movie once, but his name was Spartacus, but you could do it with your name."

Severus nodded, his smile smoothing out his features while he shook his head slightly, apparently amused. "My mother said my full name, when she was angry with me, yes."

"What's your middle name?"

"Tobias," he answered.

Gabriel gasped and his mouth dropped. "See? You wouldn't like being called that either! That is such a stupid name! You can't buy body parts! To buy bum! Why would I want people calling me bum?"

It took me a second to understand what he was saying. "Oh, your name is Tobias? Tobias Gabriel?"

"Tobias Gabriel Hutchins. I go by Gabriel. I don't like having bad words in my name. I think my mummy was mad when I was born, or she thought I had a flat bum or something and she wanted to get me a new one, I don't know. But it was stupid." He furrowed his eyebrows and looked down at the ground in shame, like he had said something wrong. "But my mum wasn't stupid. She was smart. But I still like Gabriel better."

We were all quiet for a few seconds after that. The subject of his mother was extremely awkward for me, seeing as I had tortured her before the Dark Lord had killed her. I hoped that Gabriel would never find out about what was supposed to happen last night, or the fact I'd been the one to torture his mum and kill mine.

"I believe we have somewhere to go," Severus said finally, standing up and leading us to the door.

The walk to Dumbledore's office would have been quiet if not for the fact Gabriel kept pointing out pictures and how they moved, or asking me silly questions, like if I could make myself fly or shoot fire from my eyes, or lightning from my hands. The questions were so silly, of course I couldn't make fire and lightning shoot from my eyes and fingers, but since he had lived a muggle life (though he was half-blood) and was seven, it was understandable.

When we finally got to the griffon, Severus said the password and we walked up to Dumbledore's office, Gabriel refusing to hold my hand because he was not a little kid anymore, and knew not to run off. When we were walking up the spiral stairs, Gabriel turned to me. "Is Severus your dad?"

Severus made an odd noise that may have been a laugh or a scoff--I didn't quite catch it.

"Er . . . No, he's my . . . Er, boyfriend."

"Oh. Do you guys kiss and stuff?" Gabriel didn't seem to care or mind that he was older than me. "My mummy had a boyfriend once, but she said he was a cad. I didn't like him either. He laughed funny, and called my mum a trollop when he was talking to someone on the phone. I didn't know what a trollop was until I told my mum he said that, and she got really mad. But you and Severus don't call each other trollops. This morning, when you was sleeping, he said you were pretty, and that he loved you and stuff. It was gross."

Severus stopped moving suddenly and I almost ran into his back. I looked at the back of his head and smiled. "Well, you can tell Severus that I love him back."

"He's right there, he just heard you," he said, staring at me like I was stupid.

We made it to the door and Severus knocked on it while we stood beside him. I wondered if Dumbledore would be asleep and if we woke him. When the door opened and Dumbledore invited us in, fully dressed in normal everyday robes, I figured he must not have been asleep, and I wondered if he ever did.

We sat in front of his desk after he drew up three chairs. Gabriel sat in it and stared openly at all of the things in Dumbledore's office, obviously in awe, his legs, too short to scuff the floor, kicking out. "Whoa, you've got a lot of stuff," he said, his appreciation apparent through his voice.

"Yes, I do. I've got a habit of collecting things, as you may have noticed. Would you like a sherbet lemon?" he asked, indicating the bowl.

I remembered the night I had learned of the Dark Lord's return and how Dumbledore had asked me the same thing. I wondered if he asked everybody that, or if he just asked those who he knew would accept. Gabriel grabbed a handful and put on in his mouth, still looking around the office.

"Danielle . . . Severus informed me last night of Gabriel's, ah, situation. I'm sorry to ask you this, but are you _quite_ sure he has no family?"

"Just his grandmother, and she's got Alzheimer's. When I do, er, my stuff, the first thing I look for is family memories. And, er . . . Did Severus tell you about his father?"

"I don't have a dad," Gabriel stated, his voice a little funny considering he had to talk around his sherbet lemon. "Mummy told me he was a very bad man and he left after they had sex. I know what sex is, because I'm seven, and mummy told me. She said that she was being stupid when she had sex with him, but that she would never regret it 'cause then she had me."

Dumbledore looked at me, the expression in his blue eyes dark and serious. "Yes, Severus explained that as well." Somehow, I knew that he knew about the whole rape issue, and I was thankful he didn't mention it. Not just because I didn't want to hear it, but because of Gabriel.

"That's good. I don't really want to go through telling that again."

"I think . . . considering his parentage . . . it would be best for him to be put into both of your care."

"'Into their care?' What, like adoption?" Gabriel asked, plopping two more candies into his mouth, head tilted to the side.

"Headmaster, I don't think that very wise," Severus said bluntly, his face void of any expression.

Stunned, I looked at Severus. It would never occur to me to disagree with Dumbledore, and I wouldn't have thought anyone else would consider it either. Sure, I didn't really like the idea of having a kid suddenly thrust into my care, I didn't think I was ready for that either, but I wasn't going to say it to his face. As far as I knew, Dumbledore was a pretty smart guy, and he wouldn't ask anyone to do anything unless there was a reason for it. I didn't understand where he thought Severus and me taking care of a child who had just had life take a dump on him was a good thing, but far be it for me to contradict him. Severus and Dumbledore must be very close and trust each other a lot if Severus was going to tell him his plan wasn't very wise.

"Why is that, Severus?" he asked genially, as if he was simply asking why two ingredients mixed together wouldn't do anything impressive. It was an actual question--not sarcastic or defensive.

"Considering our position in the war, it might not be prudent to . . . put Gabriel in this situation."

Dumbledore nodded, accepting it at face value, and I though for a second that maybe Severus had mentioned something Dumbledore hadn't thought of, and he had changed his mind. But then he sighed. "I've thought about that, and I believe that might be the exact thing he needs."

"What do I need? Like new parents? Are they gonna be my parents now?"

"Perhaps, Gabriel--not 'parents' but someone to watch over you--a legal guardian, as it were," Dumbledore explained patiently, smiling at him kindly. "His experience with magic has been quite unpleasant, and I think you'll agree with me there. But I cannot send him to an orphanage--muggle or otherwise--because my experiences with orphanages haven't been what I'd like to call pleasant. The children there are uneducated, usually malnourished, and it's not a very pleasant or stable environment. Tom Riddle went to an orphanage, I will not let someone else, not if I can help it."

I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering why Severus seemed to understand as soon as Tom Riddle was mentioned. I looked at Dumbledore and tilted my head. "Er, Professor, who's Tom Riddle?"

"That is who you would know as Lord Voldemort."

I felt a sick twist in my stomach region. Gabriel living as the Dark Lord had did not suit well with me, either, but I still didn't understand why he felt we were the best for the job.

"Being under both of your care, I believe he will be able to see the beauty of magic, the pleasant side of it--and, most importantly, love--something that orphanages lack. I have no doubt in my mind that you two do love each other--" Severus made an odd sound that was similar to clearing his throat and he shifted slightly in his seat, and I felt my cheeks burn "--and I believe that by you watching over him, he will understand that there is nothing to be ashamed in magic, and how to use it properly, as well as understand just how much we are trying to rid our world of this unpleasantness. Of course, I will not make you do anything you do not wish to, or anything you view as unwise, but I have made my thoughts known."

Gabriel perked up immediately. "I don't wanna go to an orphanage! I like Severus and Danielle. I think mum would like them, too. I was talking to her last night, and she said I would be safe with them; I know it. I felt it in here," he said, pointing at his chest, and his eyes were wide and shining, a few tears underneath them.

Well, that really didn't leave much room for discussion for me. A part of me was afraid, but for once in my life, I somehow knew exactly what I should do, and for once, knowing what I should do wasn't a burden on me. I don't know whether or not Severus was convinced, but I could not say no to Gabriel--not after that.

"Um, sir, I'm not . . . Well, of age yet, and I have no idea how this would work, but I'll do it. I mean, Draco's family gives me a monthly allowance. I haven't picked a house to live in yet, but I'm sure I've got enough money to take care of him. Draco isn't poor, and I don't think he'll get poor any time soon."

Dumbledore smiled at me. "Severus?"

Severus stared ahead of himself for awhile, his face void of expression. "I have to teach classes, Headmaster, and I doubt it will go unnoticed if we have a seven-year-old boy roaming about the castle," he said after a short while. I realized that he was right, of course, but I wondered if he merely mentioned it to try and think of something that would prevent him from actually taking care of Gabriel. I understood that he would be unwilling, but it was a bit frustrating at the same time.

"You live in a muggle neighbourhood, yes?" Dumbledore asked, although I had the distinct impression that he knew very well where Severus lived. Severus barely nodded. "It is possible for me to enrol him in the school in your area, and you would be allowed to leave Hogwarts to take care of him at your house, unless, of course, you were called to other duties, school or otherwise, in which case Danielle could see to him. She has already expressed her willingness to take care of him, Severus. But I think, because neither of you can spend each moment with him, that it is wise to keep him going to muggle school, so he has somewhere to be during the morning hours."

"Well, I could buy a house near his. I've got money, and I could just say I wanted to be near my, er, mentor."

Severus was still quiet, sitting stiffly in his chair, obviously thinking through his options. I could tell he was reluctant, and it frustrated me that he wasn't just flat-out agreeing to it, saying that he would do anything in his power to protect Gabriel. I wondered if it was just the war that made him nervous and unwilling, or something else. Even if he refused to do it, I would be there for Gabriel.

"I do not believe there is a house to buy near mine . . . however, it is possible for you to . . . stay at my house until one becomes available." His voice was as strained as I had ever heard it--perhaps even as strained as last night, when he told me he loved me. I understood why he would be speaking that way, of course. Living together--even though we wouldn't technically be living together--was a huge step, and not one that should be forced. I didn't even have a house at the moment--I should have searched for one as soon as I sold my old house, but I'd always decided to put it off. Summer always seemed so far away, and I wouldn't need to leave until then.

"Er . . . if that's all right with you . . ."

Severus barely nodded, his lips still pursed.

Dumbledore smiled. "Very well, then. I will enrol him into school, and sometime next week, I will have to ask you to sign a few papers, releasing his guardianship over to you."

"I'm not of age yet, sir. And, er, won't the ministry think it strange if we both sign over guardianship over a little boy? I mean, isn't that . . . er, frowned upon?"

"Severus has not agreed to become his guardian--he has offered you his home. Considering the circumstances, you may have to stand in front of the Wizengamot and explain your situation as to why you want to take care of him. Perhaps it is a good thing you are close with the Malfoy family--Lucius Malfoy has always been able to, ah, influence their decisions, and it doesn't hurt that he likes you. When you become of age, it will not matter if Severus decides to sign or not."

I felt strange, sitting there, discussing Gabriel's future in front of him, while he continued to look around the office and look at us occasionally. I didn't really think I was ready to be a mother--but then again, I wasn't really being a mother, was I? I was just taking care of him. I felt even stranger about taking care of him in Severus' house, a house I had only set foot in once, after I met the Dark Lord for the first time. It was obvious that Severus had mixed feelings about it as well, considering he kept his face stubbornly expressionless, and he was sitting rigidly with his lips pursed. Gabriel had already made his opinion quite clear, but I wondered if there would come a time when it changed, and he wished he hadn't.

"Of course, until he has a legal guardian, he will not be able to be in school, so until that point, we are going to have to ask Sirius to watch over him."

Severus scoffed and sat up straighter, snarling. That idea did not suit well with him, and he looked about ready to disagree very passionately.

"Severus, I think under present circumstances, you can put aside your animosity," Dumbledore said, and although he did not sound haughty or angry, there was an edge to his tone that made it quite plain there would be no discussion about it. His blue eyes met his black ones, steady and serious.

Severus barely nodded, but I could tell he was bursting with reasons why that wouldn't be a good idea. Although I loved Severus, at the moment I really agreed with Dumbledore, and that Severus was being a bit childish with the whole hating-Sirius thing. I understood it, and I would never ask for him to stop hating him because I had no right telling anybody how to feel, but considering the situation, it was a bit annoying since it was Gabriel he should be thinking about, and not how he disliked the man who bullied him for years, and who Severus had thought for at least twelve years was responsible for betraying Lily.

"I will, of course, make sure that Sirius understands fully as well. I hope that today, after classes, you will both be available?"

"And what shall Gabriel be doing whilst we attend classes?" Severus asked a bit curtly, obviously still unhappy with the situation.

I, once again, wondered if perhaps killing Gabriel would have been more merciful, and hated myself for wondering it. I didn't like the horrible thought at all, but it just wouldn't leave my mind.

"Gabriel, what would you like to do today? I find myself conveniently free of any obligation. The Hogwarts High Inquisitor has made quite sure put herself in as much power as possible and has, alas, relieved me of many of my responsibilities. I doubt she would be very disappointed in me taking a day off."

"Ew, that sounds pretty gross. I had a wart once, but then it went away. I don't think I'd want a job getting rid of warts on smelly gross Pumbaa pigs," he said rather plainly, kicking his legs out.

I didn't really know what he was talking about and, apparently, neither did Dumbledore or Severus, although I think I may have heard Pumbaa in a movie once, but I couldn't really remember where. I think I'd seen it less than a few years ago, I'd already been a student at Hogwarts, and I'd rented it . . . Why did it seem so familiar . . .

"Pumbaa the pig! Oh!" I shouted suddenly, remembering the Disney movie I'd rented last summer, before I'd killed my mum. "No, no, the school is called Hogwarts, and I think you're getting it mixed up with warthog, or warts. No, that's the school name."

"That's a pretty dumb name," he said rather bluntly. He then looked at Dumbledore, who was smiling and chuckling, obviously very amused. "Can I look around the school? You can show me some more magic, too. But I'm still tired, so I wanna sleep. But later, if that's okay. So who is this high dinosaur?"

"Beg pardon?"

"Quiz-a-taur. Like, a dinosaur, you know. Evil monsters that died a long time ago that rip and tear and kill and destroy everything in its path. I saw _Jurassic Park._" I laughed. Hysterically. Thank God I had disobeyed my mother and snuck muggle movies into my room. Honestly, it was worth it, just for that.

Even Severus cracked a grin at that. "High Inquisitor, Gabriel, though I suppose your description is fairly accurate . . . She is not very pleasant," Severus explained.

Severus and I looked at each other, and for the first time since Dumbledore had suggested we take care of him, and the first time in a long time, I saw his eyes shine with warmth, although only for a split second. I understood why he was happier at that moment than he had been before--Severus hated Umbridge, and Gabriel had given her an insult without even realizing it. It wasn't that surprising, really, taht Severus hated Umbridge. He wasn't fond of many people, but ever since she asked him to 'go into accordance with the ministry's policies, as if _they_ know how to teach potions, those insufferable dunderheads' and hinted that she knew of his past, he had decided that she was a bitch (not that we all didn't already know she was anyway) and despised her.

"Well, then I suppose we should let you rest, and when you wake up, I'll show you the school," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling merrily, and the traces of laughter in his tone. "And I believe you two have classes to get ready for."

* * *

Sirius sat on one side of the table and Severus sat on the exact opposite side, as far as they could from each other. Severus was folding his arms and glaring at Sirius with as much hatred as Sirius glared at Severus with. Sirius was leaning back on his chair, hands behind his head, dark eyes intense, ruggedly handsome face darkened with his mood. Severus just folded his arms and scowled.

Gabriel was sitting at the table with his arms at his side, eyes dull and staring up at the ceiling. "You know what's boring? This. When is Dumbledore getting here? He gives me candy. He gave me candy that made me _float._"

I smiled a little bit, despite the fact the atmosphere in the room was tense. "He'll be here in a minute."

There was another few minutes' of awkward, tense silence. Sirius did not look at me once, although I was sitting beside Severus. Severus didn't look at me either. They just stared at each other. After a few minutes of nothing being said, Gabriel sighed. "I have to pee," he stated for the room to hear.

"I'll take him," Severus offered quickly, probably just to get out of the room so he wouldn't have to be around Sirius.

Gabriel hopped off of the chair and followed Severus out the door, leaving Sirius and me alone in the room.

Although I really had no idea why, I felt extremely awkward, and wanted to be anywhere but with him staring at me curiously, although somewhat darkly. I looked back at him and smiled warily, nodding once as if I was greeting him. His face broke into a grin, and one I knew all to well from Draco--that smug little smirk that annoyed me so much when Draco knew he'd found the right insult to say.

"Severus much to look at without the robes or what? Can't really see why else you'd stay with him--not much to look at in the face."

"You know, that really isn't any of your business."

"I'll take that as a 'no' then." I glared at him, hardly able to believe he was being so childish. "Honestly, though, what is it? Why are you even with the git? I never understood why Lily spent so much time with him either. Maybe it's a gene thing."

I scoffed and shook my head. "Really, does it bug you that much? Seriously."

"Well, he's a git!"

"So are you, and everybody seems to love you for it!"

"Including you?" he asked with a smirk.

I scoffed and shook my head. "No," I snapped, folding my arms.

Sirius laughed out loud and shook his head, rolling his eyes. "I don't get it. I never will. But you seemed to like kissing him enough, so maybe there is something he has that I don't . . ."

"Yeah, something like maturity maybe," I said with a smirk, folding my arm, knowing I looked smug.

"Yes, he's ever so mature," he responded dryly.

I scoffed and sat up straighter. "More so than you."

"You didn't seem to mind my _immaturity_ much last time. You responded quite well, actually." Well, he had a point there. I wasn't about to admit it, though. He had said the right thing that made me speechless and he knew it, too. Stupid Black family genes, him and Draco both . . .

He smirked at me, knowing damn well that he'd won.

"So what's with the boy? He your brother or something? I thought you were an only child. God, what I would have given to be an only child sometimes. Regulus could be a right little berk. He always tried getting me in trouble, and it always worked too. I hated being the black sheep."

I frowned slightly. I couldn't really imagine his parents hating him. "I'm sure your parents loved you equally."

"Which is why my name is singed off of the family tree, I'm sure. I'm not talking figuratively, Danielle. My dear mother burned it right off when I ran away from home."

I felt awkward. I wish I could say that I had no experience with having parents not loving their children, but I actually did, so I could really believe what he was saying. I found myself wishing I was naïve and thought he was overreacting, but I knew he wasn't. "Oh, I'm sorry. My mum never loved me either, just felt she had to. So where'd you go?"

"To James'. He was a good friend, and he had a good family, too. James said it was like having the brother he never had, and it was like having the brother I always wanted." He had an odd tone--one that could have been tearful, if not for the fact he had no tears in his eyes. "I should have been the Secret Keeper, Danielle. I miss him so much, you know?" His voice broke slightly with emotion.

I felt my throat clog up and my eyes burn slightly. I noticed an odd gleam in his eyes and I cleared my throat, looking away from him. My chest felt oddly tight.

"So, what about you ever wish you had brothers and sisters or what? Sorry about your mum. I don't imagine Kensith being that great of a mother." His voice was suddenly cheery again. The sudden topic change was very much appreciated. I'm sure Sirius didn't really want to open himself up to me, the girlfriend of his enemy.

I smiled at him and shrugged. "No, not really. I was always over at Draco's house, you know. As odd as this may sound, I always wanted them as parents. They actually love Draco, you know? It's probably a good thing I wasn't their kid, though, 'cause then I might actually believe this Death Eater bullocks."

Sirius frowned slightly. "Narcissa always was a bit mothering. Talked to me like I was little kid. Personally, I always liked Andromeda, myself. She was my favourite cousin. The only one of the lot that wasn't prejudiced. You know Tonks? You met her in a couple of meetings."

I nodded a bit. Tonks was clumsy and very beautiful, and a metamorphmagus. I thought she was interesting, but I haven't ever really talked to her. "Yeah, I know her."

"Andromeda is her mum."

"Oh, so, what, Draco's her . . . first cousin?"

"Yeah. I suppose, compared to Bellatrix, Narcissa's all right. God, I swear, Bellatrix and I were at each other's throats, all the time. Narcissa never gave me the time of day, you know, she acts like she's better than everyone around her. But, well, I guess she does care about her son. I don't know. Never really thought about them having feelings."

"Well, they do. Draco doesn't understand how lucky he has it. His parents love him. I never got that. Well, I sort of got it from his parents--Lucius was actually telling me how proud he was of me the first time I tortured someone. It really bothered me about why he was saying it, but I guess it was nice." I shrugged and rolled my eyes.

"Well, we can't all have loving parents, can we? So, you were always with the Malfoy family? Did they always talk about Voldemort and Death Eater stuff?"

I shook my head. "No. They talked about normal things, like people they knew, or just, you know, normal things. Most of the time Draco and I would go into his room. Adult talk was boring. We'd just play around or I'd draw dirty pictures for him or we'd stay up all night talking until we fell asleep--he's such a body hugger. He always drools on my chest and my arm falls asleep. Just normal friend stuff, I guess. I felt more at home there sometimes than I did at my own house. It's weird. Sometimes I wish I could be like you and Lupin and not be a spy and just be able to view Death Eaters as completely evil. It would make it so much easier. But then I see them as people. It makes it kind hard to hate some of them. But, well, some of them really are just straight-up evil."

"Well, I imagine it would be hard, seeing as you've known Draco for so long. Just wait until he betrays you--it'll be easy then. I should know. Wormtail betrayed us, and I hate him." Then he got a smirk on his face. "But how does ol' Snivelly like you being all best buddy with someone other than him? Gets jealous, does he? God knows how jealous he was of James. He was so possessive of Lily. I bet he's got you on a tight leash."

I scoffed. So we were back on the subject of Severus again. "His name is Severus, and he knows that I love him and no one else, and so he has no reason to get jealous."

"Just wait, Dani. He'll get jealous before long." I shook my head and rolled my eyes, but he kept smiling at me knowingly. "So what does Draco think about you, then?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"What do you think I mean? Snivellus and Lily were best friends, and he was obsessed with her. I'm telling you now that very rarely does a boy just think of a girl as a friend, unless he's gay. At least once, one or the other thinks about the friend as something more. I've seen it plenty of times."

"He's in love with Pansy, not me. We're just friends, and we both think of each other as just friends. You know how you and me were that last time I was here? You playing around and stuff? That's just what me and Draco do."

"Wait, you mean you two are like that all the time?" he asked, staring at me curiously.

Why was he so curious? What did it matter to him? "Well, not all the time, just sometimes. In fact, Harry saw us dancing in the hall, but it wasn't anything, really, just playing around."

"Yeah, Harry sent me a letter about your little talk with him, and about how you were dancing with Draco, and how you quoted Shakespeare. You're gonna get caught, you keep that up. But, so you two act like we did that one time?"

"Yeah, so? We were just playing around."

Sirius started laughing and shook his head in exasperation. I stared at him while he continued to laugh. "You are so blind, Dani!" he managed through his laughs.

"What do you mean, I'm blind? Unless you wanted to get with me, I doubt Draco did--it's the same thing!"

"No, really, it's not. I flirt with girls I have no interest in--I always have, I think it's fun to flirt. I'm a grown man, Dani, but Draco isn't. Trust me, you're gonna feel like a complete berk one of these days."

I scoffed and folded my arms, scowling. "You know just because a boy and a girl are friends doesn't mean that one of them will always fall for the other. Sometimes two people are just friends."

He just kept laughing. "Dani, there's a reason why people say you marry your best friend."

"Then why didn't you go and marry James?"

He laughed even harder.

"You don't even know what you're talking about," I grumbled, looking away form him, snarling and narrowing my eyes. What an immature git.

The door opened and Dumbledore strode in, looking at me with my arms folded and my mouth up in a scowl, and at Sirius, whose laughter was slowly fading away. Thankfully, he didn't ask anything, just stared between us curiously, the settled himself at an empty chair.

"I hope everything is going well thus far?"

Then, before either of us could answer, there was a high-pitched yell from far away that was steadily, and rapidly, getting louder. Just as soon as I realized that Gabriel was yelling, the door to the kitchen opened with a thud, a random woman shouting out insults from somewhere in the house, and Gabriel came streaking into the kitchen, his holey jeans unzipped and unbuttoned, blue eyes wide with fear and arms outstretched. He leapt into my lap and clutched around my throat. "RUN, SEVERUS, RUN!" he screamed hysterically.

Dumbledore and Sirius both stood quickly, pulling out their wands, and I stood up too, trying to dislodge Gabriel from my neck and put him behind me, but his legs were wrapped around my abdomen so tightly that he wouldn't budge, not to mention his arms around my neck. Had Death Eaters somehow infiltrated Grimmauld Place?

"Gabriel get behind me!" I ordered, trying to push him off.

Just then, Severus strode into the kitchen. "Gabriel, it was just Kreacher," Severus explained frantically, coming in with a why-me-God-why-always-me look on his face. "He's a house-elf."

"He's not a monster?"

"No, he isn't," Severus said, shaking his head and taking Gabriel off of me, putting him on the floor.

"Speak for yourself," Sirius muttered darkly. I got the feeling that Sirius really didn't like his house-elf. Draco never really had any feelings towards his house-elves. Well, he certainly didn't have that amount of loathing in his voice when he said any of their names.

Severus chose to ignore Sirius' comment and he knelt in front of Gabriel, and began to zip up his jeans. "House-elves are supposed to appear like that," he told him, buttoning up his jeans. Apparently Gabriel was still having a hard time with that.

"Oh . . . Well, I thought he was a bad guy, and he was going to kill us."

"I wouldn't put it past Kreacher. The way he talks about Bellatrix . . ." Sirius continued to say, eyes narrowed darkly.

Gabriel furrowed his thin eyebrows. "Bellatrix. That bad man, er, Tom Riddle? Voldemort? Yeah, he brought in this girl, and he called her Bellatrix, and she pointed this stick at me, and it hurt. They both pointed their sticks at me, but then the bad man left, and she stayed for a bit, but then she left too." He looked away and cringed, skin paling at the memory. He looked like he was going to be sick. "She hurt me a lot. When she wasn't hurting me, I could hear my mum screaming. I think the bad man was hurting her before he killed her. I think Bellatrix was going to kill me, but then Danielle came in and saved me, and got Severus to help save me to. She looked like me, you know."

We all shared looks with each other, but remained silent.

Severus sat beside me and Gabriel came and sat on my lap. I was playing with the back of his light brown hair, staring at Sirius across the table, who was looking at Gabriel curiously while Dumbledore sat at the table.

"Is this meeting about the boy?" Sirius asked with a small tilt of his head.

"Yes, Sirius, it is. Now that we're all here, I think we can begin."

* * *

A/N--My dad's girlfriend has a son named William James, and when she's mad at him, she calls him James. If you want to go check the first chapter (well, technically the third chapter, since the first three are all on the same chapter) you'll see that David (Dani's dad) calls Emily Sandra, when she points her wand at him. That's where the whole discussions of middle names came from.

In fifth grade, I had a new kid come to class named Gabriel. We were talking about middle names, and he mentioned that he went by his middle name, and he would not tell us his first name. Several months later, i was talking about Animorphs, and said I absolutely loved teh name Tobias (Tobias is a character in Animorphs) and that I would love to name my kdi that. Gabriel said, "Good God, why would you put your kid through that torture? Do you know that until fourth grade, everyone would always say 'gonna go buy some ass, Toby?'" and I realized what his first name was. This is a shout-out to him. And, if he is reading this, I STILL want to name my kid Tobias.


	37. Chapter 40

Chapter 40: Planned Parenthood

Sirius still sat there, looking rather uncomfortable, as if watching over a seven-year-old boy made him nauseous. What was it about Sirius and Severus not wanting to take care of him? I understood that taking care of a child took a lot of energy, and I knew that it wasn't going to be easy, but they both acted like it was some type of horrible burden. It wasn't like I wanted to have a kid thrust into my lap either, but I wasn't grimacing and groaning. I was the one to be taking care of him most of the time, I had offered, and I had the most money (thank you, Lucius Malfoy) so it made the msot sense, but really, the ywere acting like it was something extremely horrible.

"And it will only be a . . . temporary thing?" Sirius asked after a few seconds of forced indifference.

"Of course, until Danielle is able to have guardianship signed over to her. Since she's underage, she'll likely have to appeal to the Wizengamot."

Gabriel had exclaimed that he was extremely bored, and considering the topic of his father, Dumbledore had asked Severus to show him Grimmauld Place. Severus seemed happy to oblige, but then again, I'm pretty sure that Sirius was glad to have Severus gone as well. Severus had heard the plan a few times before, whereas Sirius hadn't. Dumbledore had explained the situation thoroughly, from Gabriel's mother's date-rape, to how I'd been forced to torture his mother, and How Severus and I had saved Gabriel. Sirius hadn't said a single word, but his face had grown steadily darker and worried.

"How can I take care of a kid, even if it's only for a little while? I mean, what, this is a week at least? With the whole Wizengamot, it could take a month--even more. I'm not sure I'd be the best decision. And Severus . . . Are you sure putting Gabriel in Severus' care is a very good idea?"

"I trust Severus, just as I trust you," Dumbledore stated, and I got the feeling that he had to state it often. "Sirius, out of all the people in the Order, I believe you would be the most . . . eligible to watch over a child for the time being."

"You mean I am the one with the most 'free time' on my hands," Sirius pointed out, somewhat acidly.

Dumbledore didn't look the least bit offended or bothered by what Sirius said. In fact, he looked a little sympathetic. "It shouldn't take long, Sirius. I'm sure you know that Danielle is close with the Malfoy family, and Lucius does have quite a sway over the ministry."

"Won't he think it's a bit strange? I mean, Danielle was supposed to kill a boy, then suddenly she's adopting one? And one that looks a lot like the one she was supposed to kill, too, and has the same name. As much as I _hate_ saying this, but it would make more sense to have Snivelly--"

"Severus," Dumbledore corrected sternly, with a look I'd rather not ever have directed at me. It wasn't frightening, like he was angry, but more like he was . . . disappointed. Disappointment was much worse than anger.

"It would make more sense to have Snape . . . take care of him. He's old enough to just sign the papers, no Wizengamot needed, and Dani can help him out with her allowance."

"I have, of course, thought of that as well--but I cannot force Severus into doing something he does not wish to, unless it is absolutely necessary. Severus does much of my bidding although he would not like to, and I am sure he will be asked to do unpleasant things in the near future, as does Danielle. Severus expressed that he didn't want to be the guardian, and so I will not make him. Danielle offered.

"Lord Voldemort enjoys having power over his followers--he enjoys having his little secrets, knowing things others do not know. And, correct me if you think I'm wrong, but I doubt that Voldemort would tell each of his followers what he asks his other followers to do. He does not confide in anyone, Sirius. And I doubt asking Danielle to kill a child to prove her loyalty to him is something unordinary. It is nothing he would think overly special, so I don't think he would tell everybody. It is more of his personal test.

"I have been working on a back story, of course. One that will not arouse suspicion. He will be able to keep his name. Lord Voldemort does not care enough about his victims to learn their names--names belong to those who are worthy. Victims mare nothing to him, and so he would not care to learn the names of a muggle boy and his mother, unless he found their deaths of extreme importance."

Sirius nodded slowly, as if taking it all in. It amazed me how much thought Dumbledore put into his plans. I would never have thought about the Dark Lord recognizing the boy, or if he would tell everybody what I'd been forced to do, or even if he asked his victims names. The Dark Lord didn't want to know their names because he didn't think they were important enough to have names--I didn't want to know them because it made them more human to me.

"However, there is one thing I need to know before we can continue with this plan, and if the answer in unfavourable, it may affect how much time you have to continue looking over him, Sirius, "Dumbledore said slowly, his piercing blue eyes locked on Sirius' dark ones.

Sirius didn't seem to pleased with what Dumbledore had said.

Dumbledore finally looked over to me and stared very seriously at me. "Danielle, was Lucius Malfoy at his Manor?"

I frowned. What did that have to do with anything? "Well, yeah, it's his manor, isn't it?"

"Did Lucius _see_ Gabriel at any time?"

I thought for a moment, not really understand why he would ask that. But of course, it made sense, a few moments later than it should have. Lucius would recognize Gabriel if he'd seen him, when he was vouching for me. I felt my stomach squirm. "Er . . . I don't know. Lucius came to pick me up form Hogwarts. The Dark Lord said it would be too obvious if Severus left with me every single time, but if Lucius came and picked me up then you wouldn't suspect Severus. Lucius didn't' say anything about Gabriel or his mum at all, so I have no idea. All he said to me was that I had a job to do, and then he asked me if I was happy with my allowance, and if there was anybody special in my life. I think they're trying to get me together with Nott." I furrowed my eyebrows. "But I guess you really didn't need to know that . . ."

They both looked at each other, and I couldn't tell if it was from worry that Lucius may have seen Gabriel, and I knew that if they were uncertain we couldn't go through with the plan because we could only go through with it if we were absolutely positive Lucius hadn't seen him, or if because they were amused at them trying to pair me up with Nott.

"Excuse me for a moment," Dumbledore said, then he got up and left.

I looked at Sirius for a few moments, whose brows were furrowed with thought. When the kitchen door closed behind Dumbledore, Sirius let out a breath and looked at me, almost as if he'd been bursting to talk to me for awhile. "I can't take care of a kid, Dani. I never . . . really had loving parents. And you don't exactly pick up nurturing skills in Azkaban."

"Well, it's more like babysitting. And you're Harry's godfather, aren't you? This is like the same thing."

"No, it isn't. Being a godfather means 'if' something happens. This is a definite . . . And taking care of Harry, well, that would be different, he's fifteen now. That kid is seven, and I don't know his parents, or him. And look at this place, Dani--I hated growing up here, what do you think Gabriel will think of it? We're trying to get him away from Dark wizards, and you're thrusting him in a house built by pureblood maniac wizards who burn their own son off the family tree 'cause he runs off. This isn't the place we should put him."

I sighed and shook my head, feeling a little annoyed. Actually, more like very annoyed. "He needs this, Sirius."

Sirius stood up suddenly, shaking his head. "No, he doesn't. He needs a mum. He needs _his_ mum."

That was like a slap to the face. The annoyance that had been building slightly all day suddenly burst in my chest, and exploded into anger. I stood up so quickly my chair scraped along the floor and threatened to tip over, although it didn't. "What do you mean by that, Sirius? You don't know a damn thing about that! I'd like to see you have that on your shoulders you bloody prat!"

He spun to face me, obviously outraged at my tone with him. "What is your problem? I wasn't insulting you!"

"We both know why he doesn't have a mum, Sirius, next time keep your mouth shut about things you don't understand!"

Sirius seemed to understand my attitude suddenly, but I didn't care. "I didn't mean that, Dani," he said quickly. I clenched my jaw together. "I meant . . . This isn't what he needs. He doesn't need guardians. He needs parents. Not babysitters."

I folded my arms across my chest, feeling a bit stupid for assuming he meant to insult me. I tossed my hair over my shoulder and nodded. "Yeah, well, what do you suggest?"

"I don't' suggest anything. But I couldn't even do the godfather bit correctly, how can I do this?"

"Hey, we're not asking you to be his dad or anything. It's just until we get those papers signed. And you did the godfather bit just fine. Way I hear it, Harry loves you like a brother. Well, I heard it from Severus, so he didn't exactly say it like it was a good thing, but it's obvious he does. He wrote to you about what he saw me doing, right? I'm sure he misses you all the time. I think you did fine."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's why I got locked in Azkaban; 'cause I'm a great godfather. And Harry lives with his aunt and uncle."

I started walking over to him, feeling a bit guilty for snapping at him earlier when he was obviously just worried because of the fact he thought he wasn't good enough. He looked at me strangely as if me walking to him bothered him. "Hey, Sirius . . . You went after the guy who betrayed your best friend. Who betrayed _his_ best friend. That's not a bad thing. I probably would have done it too . . . And, hey, you know, I'm sure Dumbledore had his reasons for sending him there; I'm sure it had nothing to do with you."

Sirius looked at me still strangely. I reached forward and put my hand on his shoulder, squeezing it in a friendly way. He looked at my hand then smiled. He reached up and patted my hand, then looked back at me, chuckling airily. "You're a good woman. I really see what Snape sees in you, but I just don't get what you see in him, Evans. I never did."

Awkward.

I pulled my hand from his shoulder and forced a smile at him. "Hmm, well . . . I guess no one really has to except me and him." He shrugged, completely oblivious as to what had just happened. Severus had only called me Lily once, and thank God it had been before we started going out. Even though I didn't have feeling for Sirius or anything, it was still extremely awkward being called Evans when he should be calling me Danielle, or Dani, or Kensith.

I started back over to my chair, clearing my throat, feeling the back of my neck start warm up just as my cheeks did. When I sat down in my chair ,Sirius sat down in his.

"You'll do fine, Sirius," I said, my voice a little weak. Severus had explained to me that he thought Sirius had a hard time distinguishing James and Harry (which, in my opinion, Severus had a hard time doing as well) but it had never occurred to me that he'd have a hard time distinguishing me and Lily, too. I got it enough from Severus back when I really worried about it--and even now, sometimes--so I didn't really need any more of it.

The kitchen doors opened and Dumbledore, Severus, and Gabriel came in. Severus seemed to sense the tension almost immediately, and looked between Sirius and me, but said nothing, and sat down beside me. Gabriel got up on my lap while Dumbledore sat at a chair near the middle of the table.

"Gabriel, is it all right if I ask you a question?"

"Okay," he said, kicking his legs out, which felt odd considering he was sitting on my lap and his heels kept smacking my shins. He was heavier than I expected him to be, too, and had a bony arse.

"Does the name Lucius Malfoy sound familiar to you?"

"I don't know."

"You msut think hard, Gabriel. This is important."

Gabriel sat quietly for a few moments and we all kept sharing looks, ever single one of us hoping against hope that he hadn't seen him, that Lucius had taken me to the manor and did something else. He screwed up his face with concentration. "I was really scared so I can't remember a lot. I 'member Bellatrix name, though, because I liked the name. It was pretty. She was really pretty, too. But . . . Lucius? I don't' really . . ."

"He is a bit older than me," Severus explained.

"Doesn't really look it, though, "Sirius commented snidely.

Severus just galred at him before continuing. "He has blonde hair, and grey eyes."

"Loos ka bit lie ka ferret--or at least, that's how I remember him. He has a pointed face, and he walks like he has a stick up his arse."

Gabriel gasped. "Oh, yeah, I know him! He took me to the room, and said he had to go get Dani! I remember now! I didn't like him at first, but obviously he's a good guy 'cause he went to get Dani. Yeah, they did call him Lucius, didn't they? Yeah, he's nice. He went and got Dani. What about him? Is he here?"

The look on all of our faces fell, and I felt a sharp, stinging cold fill my chest and my stomach. Lucius had seen Gabriel. There was no way I could stand in front of the Wizengamot now. Lucius would recognize him, and the whole ruse would be over.

I was like someone had tugged the rug out form underneath me. My stomach lurched unpleasantly and I suddenly felt very cold. The boy sitting on my lap was without a family. It wasn't fair. All because that git Lucius had seen him! Everything was being destroyed because of this. This kid's life was going to be horrible, and we had no idea what to do with him! All because I had been selfish and couldn't do my damn job.

"Is everything okay? You all look funny."

"Everything's fine ,Gabriel," I said, and I didn't even sound convincing to myself.

He tilted his head back and narrowed his blue eyes at me. I noticed that he had a small scar underneath his right eye, and a longer scar on the left side of his hairline. He had thing lips, but they were long. He had a round head, that just seemed to complete the picture of pure innocence along with his frail, narrow body. Looking at him now, it made me sick knowing that I should have killed him.

"Are you sure? You sound funny."

I grabbed his sides and squeezed them, wiggling my fingers underneath his ribs. "Yes, everything's fine," I said while I tickled him. He started squirming around on my seat and laughing, face turning red while he kicked out and grabbed my wrists, just chuckling insanely.

Severus was staring at him with his head titled to the side, eyebrows furrowed as if he'd never seen such a thing, as if me tickling him confused him. When I finally stopped tickling him, Gabriel gasped and sighed on my lap with a grin on his face. I looked down at him and I felt tears spring into my eyes. I realized that I had actually been looking forward to taking care of him. I didn't love him or anything, how could I, I barely knew him, but I could see myself loving this little kid. I had saved him, and now what were we going to do?

I must've let a tear or so drop, because when Gabriel looked back at me with his bright blue eyes sparkling, he reached a hand up and traced a finger along my cheek, where my tears had fallen.

"Everything's not okay," he whispered.

"Lucius . . . Isn't' a good man," I answered quietly.

"But he brought you," he countered, as if that, in itself, was proof he was a good man. Of course, to me, it was only proof that he wasn't.

I looked down at him innocent face and sighed, wanting nothing more than to somehow Obliviate Gabriel's face from Lucius' memory. This kid deserved a home, and maybe I wasn't the best girl for the job, but it was better than nothing. I suppose Sirius could take care of him until we got everything figured out, and I'm sure Sirius isn't that bad despite what he says . . . But it felt like someone was ripping my heart from my chest.

I was aware of the fact Severus was staring at me like he had never seen me before, and I knew Dumbledore and Sirius were looking at me as well, but I didn't really care.

"I'll sign the papers," Severus stated firmly, completely resolved, the expression in his face completely serious.

I looked up at Severus, startled. He had been unwilling until that very moment, What had changed his mind? I was glad, of course, but I was confused. Severus glanced at me, but then quickly looked away.

Sirius looked about ready to scream and yank his hair out, and he opened his mouth to (I assume) argue, but the look on Dumbledore's face--which was a very ominous, knowing look--was what I was really focused on. It was as if he'd been expecting it, or had been wanting it to happen. Before Sirius could say anything, Dumbledore said; "Very well then. I think it best if we return to Hogwarts, and develop our plan from there."

I stared at Severus, stunned, but happy. Whatever the reason, I was glad for it.

* * *

Severus was walking me to the common room, since Dumbledore asked him too. Dumbledore said he would like to spend the next while by himself, so as to think of a story for Severus and Gabriel. He obviously couldn't tell the ministry--or whoever it was he needed to talk to in order to get those papers--the real story. He'd mentioned earlier that if I had been of age I wouldn't need to stand in front of the Wizengamot to explain my reasons as to wanting to take care of him. I assumed he'd have to talk in front of some sort of family services.

We walked in silence, and Severus seemed to be lost in thought, and I hadn't realized exactly how tired I was until I stared up at his weary face, and realized that I was weary as well.

"Danielle," he said just as we stopped in front of the portrait.

"Yes?"

"I didn't have a good home life. How can I expect to know how to raise a child when my own parents obviously could not raise me properly? They never hugged me, told me they loved me . . . My mother loved me, I'm sure of it, but she never said it. She never held me. I do not regret my life, nor blame my mother for anything . . . My memory of parents and how they act is, most likely, not appropriate." He put his hands behind his back and stood straighter. "I would never wish my father on any child. And I do not wish to be like him."

I reached forward and put my hand on his shoulder, squeezing it. It suddenly made sense to me, why Severus hadn't wanted to take care of Gabriel. It made sense, really--it was a bit similar as to why Sirius hadn't wanted to take care of him. "You won't be like your dad. And I didn't have a normal home life either. Most mothers don't kill their husbands to prove their love to the Dark Lord, do they? She killed people in front of me. And I'll be damned if I end up like her. You'll be fine. And I'll take care of him when he gets out of school anyway."

He nodded curtly in acceptance, then his black eyes finally found my face, and searched it for something, but I didn't know what. "I saw how you were with him. I couldn't take that from you. I couldn't take that from him." He reached forward and held the side of my face, brushing his thumb along my cheekbone, staring at me like he'd never seen me before, like I was some painting he was trying to memorize.

I leaned my head into his palm and smiled lazily at him. I felt warm suddenly, and I really wished Sirius was here, so I could explain to him that _this_ was what I saw in Severus. Severus might be a git sometimes, but he really cares, and he really loves. It's almost as though he cares for me, love me, more than he loves himself. He didn't want to do this, and he did, for me.

Just like eh was willing to kill Gabriel for me.

How could Sirius not see this? How could anyone not see this?

I leaned forward and kissed him, closing my eyes, wanting him to feel just how much I loved him in that one kiss. I don't know how I could ever convey just how much I loved him through something like that, but I wanted to. I kept pressing my mouth to his softly, gently, bringing in his bottom lip, wrapping my arms around him tightly. He responded just as gently, but lovingly, as I did, each time our lips met, a warmth spreading through me. I felt giddy kissing him, as I always did--excited, and happy, and warm.

"I love you," I whispered urgently when we pulled away and put out foreheads together. "I love you so much ,Severus."

I saw the sides of his mouth tilt upwards when he ran his hands through my hair. "I love you," he responded, his voice full of intensity.

I smiled at him leaned up to kiss him again.

And the portrait began to open.

Severus stepped away from me smoothly and put his hands behind his back, his face completely indifferent, and I turned around, trying to mimic his expression, to see Draco, half in the portrait, half out, looking between us impassively. He then stepped out fully. "Dani, I've been looking for you. Learn much in today's lesson, then?"

"Actually, no, help on an essay," I said smoothly. Our lessons had ended awhile ago, and it would be stupid for me to use that as an excuse, considering Draco knew that the lessons had ended, and I didn't know why he'd mention them if he knew that.

"Yes, Draco, and perhaps you should send Crabbe and Goyle to me for help on theirs as well. With OWL exams at the end of this year, they cannot afford to continue writing as they have been. I grow tired of marking T's." He then turned on his heel and strode down the hall, his cloak billowing behind him.

Draco raised an eyebrow at the retreating form of Severus, then looked at me with a brief smile. Eh shut the door behind him and leaned against it, much to the chagrin of Salazar, who sniffed and pointed his nose upwards.

"Guess what?" he said, smirking at me in a way I didn't really like.

"What?"

"Pansy is on a girls' night out with Daphne Greengrass later tonight--you know, that pretty brunette in my year--so that means you and I get to have a boys' night out."

"But I'm not a boy."

"Really, I hadn't noticed," he drawled. I rolled my eyes. "It's a figure of speech, Dani. Come one, let's do something. It'll be later tonight, of course. It's a bit early now. But you're in, right?"

I thought for a moment. After today and yesterday--both days had been rather exciting--all I really wanted to do was rest. But it didn't seem like such a bad idea. I didn't mind hanging out with Draco. Because we were friends, and only friends despite what Sirius said, and I shouldn't have to feel guilty doing something with him because Sirius was wrong and didn't know what eh was talking about.

"Yeah sure."

Draco nodded and stopped leaning against the portrait. "Great, see you later tonight." He turned around to say the password and let us both in, but then he stopped and turned back to look at me. "Were you and Snape kissing when I came out here?" he asked, sounding a little strange, but I couldn't place what was strange about his tone.

"No, why?" I lied.

He shrugged. "Nothing, It just looked like it is all, but I guess it doesn't really make sense. You told me he rejected you, remember? Dumb move on his part, but there you have it." He then turned back around and said the password.

Before the portrait opened, Salazar and I shared a look, and I couldn't help my smug little smirk when Salazar shook his head at me.

* * *

A/N--I am very, very sorry for the long update. Some of you seem to have had the same problem I'd had, with being weird. wouldn't let me send reviews or download new documents, at least not all the time.

Also, I have two words that also explain my late update, two words that any person who has been to college or is in it now will understand: Finals Week. That was last week, so add that along with being weird, and you have my reason for the late update, and I apologize.

Anyway, I hope you like, I've had it written for, like five days, so I think it's time you guys get to finally read it.


	38. Chapter 41

Chapter 41: Boys' Night Out

Draco and I walked into the common room later that night, going towards a table that Blaise was already sitting at, smiling flirtatiously at me. Draco sat beside Blaise instead of on the opposite side, which is where Draco normally sat in regards to Blaise, since Draco didn't like him. I wondered why he chose to sat beside him when I noticed that there were four chairs at the small, round table they'd set up, and that if Draco had sat on the opposite side, I'd have been forced to sit next to Blaise. Reminding myself to thank Draco later, I sat beside Draco, smiling briefly at him, hoping he'd understand that as a thank you. Blaise's smile faltered and he gave Draco a dirty look.

"So, what's on the agenda?" I asked, tossing my red hair over my shoulder.

That's when the portrait door opened, and Nott came in, holding a school bag. He came over to the table and plopped the bag down onto the table, which made an odd clanking noise that didn't really sound like it should be coming from a school bag.

Nott was a skinny boy--skinnier than Severus, which was not really a good thing. It was an unhealthy thinness that made him look rather sick most of the time. His ears suck out form his head a little bit, and were a bit large. He looked like a rabbit. But I'd rather hang out with him than Blaise any day. Nott was smart, unlike Crabbe and Goyle, but he wasn't as full of himself as Blaise, and he actually seemed like a normal boy.

"Took you long enough," Draco commented with a quirked eyebrow, his grey eyes looking him over, as if expecting to find him injured or something.

"Damn McGonagall almost caught me. I had to hide in a broom closet. I think she heard the bottles clinking, but then she went to check another hall." He then opened his school bag and I watched with surprise as he pulled out bottle after bottle of firewhiskey and sherry.

"Sherry?" Draco said with a snarl. "I asked you to get Chablis or at least a chardonnay! And what's with the firewhiskey? I think we're above that cheap hard liquor. At least get something smoother."

"Excuse me, _Draco, _but you weren't the one sneaking into Hogsmeade and nicking alcohol from the Hog's Head, were you? That place reeks like goats. This was all he had, anyway."

Draco sighed and shook his head, as if he was being asked to do something extremely unpleasant that he had no way of getting out of--like cleaning his room. Except Draco had never really cleaned his room, considering he had house elves to do that for him. "Well, I don't imagine that idiot can afford anything with taste. I heard that he can't even read. At least that's what Father says."

"Well, I imagine we can get pissed off it at any rate. That's the whole point, right?" Nott said, pulling out a few mugs that I imagine he'd stolen from the Hog's Head, too.

"I suppose," Draco said in a slightly petulant tone.

"Well, ladies first, Danielle," Blaise said wit ha smirk, folding his arms across his chest. "We didn't manage to get anything weaker; I hope that a girl can manage drinking this. It's a bit strong."

All right, I'll admit, I'd only had a few drinks before, and definitely not enough to get drunk off of. Of course I'd had butterbeer, but there wasn't' really enough alcohol in it to get pissed off of, unless I suppose a house elf drank it. Every now and then the Malfoy family would have a glass of wine with their dinner whe nI was over, and once my mum made me a martini, which I thought tasted too salty, but she had been wasted when she made it for me. Other than that, I'd never had much alcohol, and I definitely hadn't been drunk before.

But I was not about to back down. I could play with the big boys. I wanted to prove I was no teetotaller, even though I probably was. Besides, if people drank alcohol for fun all the time, it couldn't' taste too bad, could it?

"I'm not a coward," I spat, grabbing a mug and smirking at Blaise, who seemed oddly satisfied with my remark, and then I looked at Nott. "I'll have some firewhiskey, thank you."

He poured some of the amber-coloured liquid into my mug, and I smelled it. It smelled like my mother's breath whenever she came home from a pub and started ranting and raving about something, back when she was alive.

And I downed it without another thought.

It burned down my throat and brought tears to my eyes. I coughed and blinked my eyes, ignoring the fact that Nott chuckled and Blaise laughed at my reaction. It made my stomach gurgle slightly and it warm up considerably, and for a moment I thought it was going to come back up my throat, but it didn't. For some reason, it felt like I had an empty stomach and I was hungry, although we'd had dinner a few hours ago and I wasn't hungry at all.

"You all right?" Draco asked, his lips pulled tight in a way that made me think he was trying not to laugh at me.

"Fine," I said, putting my mug down on the table. "Pour me another. Sherry, this time."

* * *

Three mugs of sherry, two-and-a-half mugs of firewhiskey, and about an hour later, I was laughing at the table, swaying on my chair. I had no idea how much they'd drank, but I knew I was drunk. My vision was slightly blurry and everything that moved seemed to suddenly have trails, but not really. My head felt stuffy and airy at the same time, but not in an unpleasant way. My lips were moist and my throat burned, and my tongue felt a bit too large, btu I didn't care. Everything was numb, and nothing seemed bad. Everything was good.

"Nott! Put that down!" Draco shouted, standing up suddenly, swaying so much he slammed into the table and knocked over a bottle of firewhiskey, which spilled all over the table, and the scent filled my nostrils.

"That's a waste!" I shouted, realizing we were wasting more of our drinks, and I jumped up on the table and tried licking it up, but when I felt nothing but wood and something wet on my chest, I realized I had missed. Odd, I thought it was right there . . . I sat on my knees and looked at my sparkling chest, in the process knocking over a few more bottles, but thankfully they were closed.

"I said put it down!" Draco said again, moving to go to the other side of the table, presumably towards Nott, but then he knocked the table again, which I was kneeling on. I swayed with the table and my stomach lurched, and I fell on my back, but I didn't fall off of the table.

Nott was staring at a bottle of sherry with a dazed look in his eye. "I thought this was really good."

"We have to save some for later, you bloody lush," Draco said, storming over to the other side and jerking it out of his hand roughly, and he swayed backwards slightly. I thought he was going to fall so I quickly sat up and started crawling over to that side of the table to catch him, but by the time I got over there, he was standing still.

"I liked the sherry. The firewhiskey burned my throat a lot," I explained, the knees of my robes suddenly cold at wet. I looked down. I was kneeling on the alcohol again. "Oh, no!" I gasped, then stood up, brushing off the wetness that was all over my robes, feeling dizzy because I stood up too fast.

I looked down at Blaise, who was staring at me, completely dazed looking, smiling lazily. "Are you going to table dance for us?" he asked in a deep voice.

"Yes!" I shouted much too loud for some weird reason, and began bopping my head and shaking my hands above my head. "I love to dance!"

I giggled while I dance, swinging my hair around my head, hopping around on my feet, knowing that I looked sexy as hell. I was probably the sexiest girl in the world. Severus said I was beautiful all the time. And me and Lily were the prettiest girls in the world.

"Not like that," Blaise said while Draco and Nott argued, yelling in each other's faces, swaying, pushing each other every now and then. "You gotta dance sexy."

I stopped dancing and looked own to where Blaise she be sitting, but he wasn't there. My head spun and I felt the world around me shift uncomfortably, then I turned around, seeing Blaise sitting in the chair he'd always been sitting in, but it had somehow moved.

"Dance sexy? Huh?" I looked at him, then started rocking my hips a little, rolling my shoulders a bit too. "Like this?"

"No . . ." he said, the shouts from Nott and Draco getting louder, both of them trying to jerk the sherry bottle away from the other. He climbed up on the table with me, slipping slightly and swaying a bit. Blaise was a very attractive black boy, but he was a jerk. Why couldn't he have been more like Dean Thomas? He grabbed my waist and pulled my closer to him, and began thrusting his waist against mine, forcing my hips to do the same motion, and I felt something hard against me. "Like this," he whispered, circling his hips even more.

I was staring to get a little sick. He put his hand on my breast, through my robes, and he squeezed.

"Ew, no!" I shouted, stepping away from him, but nothing was underneath my foot. I fell, my stomach swooping, my head spinning, and then I felt something hard smack my head and my back, but it didn't hurt so much as throb.

Blaise jumped off of the table and landed delicately next to me, and I lied there on my back, my hair probably around my head like a red halo, and I probably looked really beautiful, 'cause I was such a beautiful person.

Blaise straddled my and leaned down and pressed his lips against mine. They were hard. I moaned out, trying to tell him to stop, but his mouth was on mine, so it was hard. I pushed him off of me and yelled out, but he put his mouth on mine again. I started thrashing around and trying to push him off of me, fear slamming through me, fear making me want to puke, tears coming into my eyes . . .

There was a flash of white and black and Blaise was suddenly off of me and on the floor with a thunk. I sat up, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, to see Draco straddling Blaise, punching him in the face, first with his right fist, and then with his left, a few times. "Don't--do--that--you--prat!" Draco shouted, each word punctuated with a punch.

I slowly stood, my legs shaky, like they were made of Jell-O, and I saw Draco slowly stand and kicked Blaise in the side, who was asleep for some reason. I think Draco knocked him out.

"Did you see what he was trying to do?" Draco exclaimed, turning around and staring at me, with his grey eyes wide. "My mum always told me to respect women! What a prat! I hate him!"

"I know! That was so scary!" I said, feeling shivers run up my spine. Blaise was going to rape me! What a jerk! Well, it was a good thing Draco saved me. Draco was like a hero or something. "Draco, you saved me! You're my hero!" I said, going over to him.

"Dani, I was so scared," he said, pulling my into a hug, and squeezing me tightly.

I buried my head into his shoulder and tried to steady my breathing, my stomach churning form fear, suddenly rather warm, and made me want to vomit. I clutch onto his robes. "Me too, but you saved me, don't worry, Draco," I whispered, holding onto him, afraid I would fall if I let go, because my legs felt wobbly.

Suddenly we heard retching. I turned around to see Nott on his knees, puking on the floor, something watery falling out of him mouth, and the smell of his rancid vomit reach my nostrils, and I gagged.

"Nott, you better clean that up," Draco ordered, pointing at him, clutching onto my arm and swaying.

"I'm going to bed," said Nott and he began to crawl away.

Draco turned to me. "I'm bored, and it stinks in here. We should leave."

I nodded. It sounded like a good idea. Besides, it really did stink in here, and it made my stomach feel funny whenever I smelled it. When I nodded, my head hurt and I swayed, because the floor tilted a bit. "Yeah, okay," I mumbled, clutching onto his arm while we walked through the common room.

We opened the portrait door and I went to walk out, but I tripped and fell on my face, and Draco was underneath me, his elbow in my ribs. "Ow! Get off me!" he yelled at me for no reason, 'cause he was just being a jerk!

I sat up and straddled his waist, looking down at his pointed features, but they actually looked really attractive today. Draco had the most amazing grey eyes I'd ever seen. And he actually had a really nice body. But right now, he was being mean, so I didn't care. Why was Draco always such a prat? "You prat! It was an accident!" I shouted.

He sat up, stumbling a little since I was straddling his waist, while he pointed his finger at me, his grey eye unfocused, and his mouth shining slightly, like he'd licked his lips. "Don't yell at me!"

"Then don't yell at me!"

"But it hurt!"

I scoffed and pushed hi ma little harder than I meant to, and he fell backward, smacking his head against the floor. Why was he being so mean? "Sorry!" I said, feeling a little guilty.

"Ow! Are you trying to kill me?" eh asked, keeping his head on the ground, but glaring at me.

"No, that was an accident!" I said, putting my hands on his chest. He felt like he had a nice chest. "And earlier, I tripped and you were right there, it wasn't my fault I landed on you!"

He stared at me, as if thinking really hard, and then nodded. He then looped his arm through mien and nodded. "I'm sorry, I thought you pushed me. I don't wanna fight with you, Dani."

"Me, either. I'm sorry I pushed you and you hit your head."

He nodded, staring up at me, while I straddled him, my robes being pushed up my legs and bunching up around my thighs. I looked down at him, and he looked innocent and cute, sort of like he did when he was sleeping. I ran my hands down his chest, liking the feel of the fabric against my palm.

I felt his hands on my legs, on my bare legs since my robes were riding up m thighs, and his cold hands starting moving upwards, tickling me. I stared at him, confused as to why he was doing that. "Draco? Are you okay?" I asked, noticing that he looked a little dazed, and it didn't make sense as to why he was running his hands up and down my thighs. Good thing I shaved yesterday.

"I'm fine," he whispered, and his hands travelled to my sides, but he kept his hands over my robes, so it wasn't weird or anything.

When his hands grabbed my sides, they tickled, even though it was through my robes. I chuckled a little because it tickled, then he ran his hands up my sides even more, which tickled more, and then ran his hands down again, so that they rested above my hips. I leaned my head back and laughed when he ran his hands up my sides again, and I bucked a little. He let out a moan when I did that, but I don't know why.

He then sat up suddenly, and I toppled backward, swinging my arms a bit, shrieking. I fell onto my back, my legs still locked around his waist, my robes falling up. I laughed out loud although the back of my head sort of hurt. Falling up. That was funny. Except it was actually falling down because of gravity, but up my body some more. I could see my white, cotton underwear. I laughed harder.

He was on his knees, and his mouth made a perfect little O. "Dani! I'm sorry; are you okay?" he asked, bending down so that he was leaning a bit on me. He was brushing my hair away from my eyes.

"I'm fine, really, it's okay. My head hurts a little." He nodded, and I realized he was on top of me I giggled a little. "No one's ever been on top of me before, 'cept when we're wrestling for fun."

He nodded, and he had a strange expression on his face. He was frowning slightly, but he didn't look sad, and his eyebrows were furrowed a little bit, his grey eyes suddenly really focused. I felt a strange lurching sensation in my stomach, and he was suddenly a bit heavy on my chest.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you, Dani. I didn't mean to drop you." He voice was softer than it usually was.

"It's okay."

Suddenly, he started crying. He let out a small sob and started sniffling, his face screwing up, tears falling from his eyes and onto my face. "No, it's not! I don't' want to hurt you Dani and I think one day I might really hurt you on accident and you'll die!"

I grabbed him and pulled him into a hug, both of us holding each other on the ground, Draco sobbing into my shoulder. "Shh, Draco, it's okay. I know you'll never hurt me. We wrestle all the time for fun and it doesn't hurt me, I'm strong."

"Blaise almost raped you, and I tried to save you, but he kissed you! I'm so sorry he kissed you! I shouldn't have let him kiss you! I'm so sorry; I should have been there to protect you, and stupid Blaise, he was going to rape you! Then I dropped you on your head! God, I'm the worst friend ever!"

Suddenly, tears sprung up in my eyes, and I start crying in his collarbone. Why would Draco say he was a bad friend? That was so sad! "No, Draco, don't say that. You're my best friend. And you saved me from Blaise, you saved me, and I'm okay, don't' worry. And I dropped you and landed on you earlier, this is just like payback, don't say you're a bad friend!" I sobbed, realizing just how sad this was.

"No, Dani, you're wrong, I'm a horrible friend! And Pansy won't even let me talk to you, and I really want to talk to you, I do, but she gets so jealous!" He cried into my chest, clutching the back of my robes, moistening my shoulder.

"I know she does, and I'm not mad at you, we're still best friend! We will always be best friends, I promise!" I managed through my tears.

He pulled away form me and looked down at me, and I knew that my face was wet and red because I'd been crying. He looked down at me, and nodded. "Best friends?" he whispered, sniffling a little.

"Yes, best friends," I answered, smiling, wiping away my tears while I stared up at him.

He nodded a few times, his hands and either side of my head. He looked down at me, smiling widely. He grinned happily. I felt a lurch in my stomach area again when he grinned, which was something he didn't do very often. My head start spinning and the stuffiness in my head thickened.

I reached up and grabbed his sides, tickling them, and he smiled wider, laughing out loud. He laughed even rarer than he smiled. I kept tickling his sides, laughing because he was laughing, and so glad that we weren't crying anymore.

"Stop!" he shouted through his giggles, so I did. I kept my hands on his sides though, feeling the muscles in his stomach tighten. He had really nice abs. I'd seen them before, because he liked to walk around in his expensive boxers. Draco was really good-looking. I don't' know why I'd never really thought he was before, but he really was. Even if he was pointy.

Because he was on top of me, resting on his elbows which were on either side of my head, his nose was only a few inches from mine, so I could feel his breath on my face. His breath smelled funny, like alcohol. But it really wasn't that bad--not as bad as I remember it on my mother, anyway.

I wrapped my arms around his back and ran my fingers down his spine. He arched his back, and because my legs were around his waist and my robes were pushed up my legs, I felt something hard press against me and it shot pleasure through me. I gasped, surprised at how good it felt, and surprised that he seemed to enjoy it as well, considering he moaned a little bit. I remember he moaned just like that earlier, when I'd straddled him and he'd tickled me.

I ran my hands over his back, smiling at him, feeling rather happy. I was so glad he was my friend. He tilted his head, and his grin faded from his face. "Dani?" He looked a little bit frightened, like he thought I might slap him or something.

"Hmm?"

"I love you," he breathed, his grey eyes searching my face.

I don't know what it was I felt when eh said that. It wasn't a bad feeling, though. "Well, yeah, we're best friends. I love you too," I said, furrowing my eyebrows. It was true. I loved Draco, 'cause he was my friend. I don't' see why he made a big deal out of it.

"No, Dani, I . . ."He trailed off, then bit his bottom lip.

Suddenly, his mouth was on mine, but it was soft. His lips were moist and soft, and warm, and tasted like sherry. I felt strange. The butterflies in my stomach reared up again, and my mouth tingled. I closed my eyes and leaned up into his mouth, letting his tongue slide in. I started massaging his tongue with mine, running my fingers down his back, listening to him moan into my mouth.

I could taste salt and sherry and saliva in his mouth, and he smelled like a mixture of alcohol and good cologne, and silk. My hands went up into his silvery-blonde hair, running my fingers through his strands, his silky strands, thrusting my tongue into his mouth, feelings his lips around mine, his body resting on top of mine, his hands underneath my head, and fingers threading through my hair.

We began rocking left toe right, holding each other, kissing, the kissing growing more passionate with each second, both of us moaning for some reason, making some sort of odd musical sound, the fuzziness in my head thickening, making me feel a little light headed . . . if only Pansy could see this, that would be funny, that stupid jealous bitch . . .

I pulled my head away suddenly, opening my eyes and blinking them. He pulled away. His hair was a mess. "You're dating Pansy," I mumbled, sort of regretting it because it felt great. But it was wrong. We were both dating other people, and I knew that Severus would be mad if he ever found out.

"Sod Pansy," he grumbled, leaning down, and kissing me again. I melted into it, smiling, allowing him access into my mouth again.

I clutched onto his back, moaning, when he thrust his pelvis against mine ,against my cotton underwear. Pleasured swarmed through me. Like when Severus had kissed me against the wall, only this was more intense . . .

I pulled away again. "I'm in love with Severus," I said, a bit louder than I needed to.

He stared down at me, then blinked a few times. He sat up on his knees and I scooted away from him, pushing my robes back down my thighs while I sat on my knees too, feeling a little woozy. We stared at each other.

"Oh, I forgot . . . You told me once, I think . . ." he muttered, standing up, swaying. I stood up too, brushing off my robes, feeling suddenly extremely guilty. I shouldn't have kissed him. He looked at me, and it looked like he was going to cry again, but instead, his eye lit up. "I have an idea! Come with me," he said, grabbing my wrist, and leading me through the halls at a dizzying pace.

Next thing I knew, we were standing in front of Severus' quarters, and Draco was pounding on the door. I grabbed his wrist. "What are you doing? He won't like this!" I reprimanded. He knocked my hand away and I swayed and I almost fell over, but because I was just amazing at balance, I managed to stay upright.

The door opened violently and there stood my wonderful, perfect, sexy boyfriends, Severus Snape. But he didn't look very happy. "Are you drunk?" he demanded.

"She has to tell you something," Draco said, pointing at me.

I realized that I did. "Oh, yes, I love you!" I practically shouted. Severus winced, then grabbed my hand and pulled me into his quarters, then pulled Draco in too, who was laughing.

"Did you hear her Snape? She loves you! She told you once, but then you rejected her. You're daft, Snape. If she loved me, I would go to her in a heart beat! I love Dani!" he exclaimed, smiling, his hair a mess, eyes cloudy. "Anyway, why won't you go out with her. She loves you."

"You love Dani?" Severus asked, looking into Draco's eyes.

Draco nodded ."Yep. But she loves you, and I'm with Pansy, so . . . Why won't you snog her, Snape? She's a really good kisser."

Severus was staring into Draco's eyes. "I am her professor, Draco. A relationship between us is hardly acceptable." Severus looked angry for some reason. He then look at me, and I stared into his eyes. We stared at each other, and I don't know why, but his face fell, like he felt betrayed or something.

Suddenly, Draco fell to his knees and started vomiting. The retching noise was loud ,and the smell of the vomit reached my nostrils, making my stomach churn unpleasantly. I blinked, then suddenly, I started puking too. If it had burned my throat going down, then it scorched coming back up.

After I spewed all over the front of Severus' grey nightshirt, him staring down at his chest with a grimace, he went into his bedroom, leaving us the living room part. Draco stood shakily, then walked over to me, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. My head was pounding now, like there was someone inside of my head trying to knock his way out.

"That wasn't very fun," I muttered, my skin suddenly cold and my body shivering.

"What's that?" Draco asked, pointing at my chest, near where my necklace was. I furrowed my eyebrows, not sure what he was talking about. He reached forward and put his hand on the left side of my chest were deep claw marks were, and they were scabbed over. They were from yesterday, when the Dark Lord had tortured me, and I'd clawed at my own chest. I'd forgotten about them, since we'd been focusing on Gabriel all day.

"Nothing. Scratched myself," I answered, moving the neckline of my robes so he couldn't see it.

Then Severus came out his room, holding his wand. He muttered something that I couldn't hear, and the vomit off of the floor disappeared, just as the puke on our robes and his nightshirt disappeared. "Go to bed," he ordered icily, glaring at us.

Draco and I looked at each other, then I grabbed Draco's wrist and led him to Severus' room, since I'd slept in that bed before, and Severus had told us to go to bed. We shut the door behind us, and Draco took off his robes, standing there in his boxers.

We both got into Severus' bed, and I pulled the blanket over us. I kept my robes on, though. Draco put his head on my chest and I put my arm around him, my eyes suddenly heavy. "Why is Snape so angry, you think?" Draco slurred, snuggling against me.

I shrugged. "I don't know."

* * *

A/N--I know it seems a little undescriptive, but when I'm drunk, I'm not really able to have coherent thought, and some of you may say Draco is OoC. Well, being as none of us have seen Draco drunk (and drunk people act a little strange) I took some liberty as to how I thought he would act while drunk.


	39. Chapter 42

Chapter 42: The Morning After

Draco and I did not go immediately to sleep. We talked and laughed and tickled each other mostly all night. We held each other all night, talking, rocking back and forth, me loving the feel of his skin on my hands, and his body warmth, and Severus' soft bed underneath us. My robes got tangled up in my body, so after we talked for a little bit, I took off my robe and tossed it off the bed, me sitting there in my un-matching underwear--white cotton panties and a grey bra--and we huddled close together, laughing all night. We snogged a bit, holding each other, even though we were only in our underwear, feeling his skin against mine, feeling his silk boxers against my skin. Draco was an amazing kisser. Not that Severus wasn't great, because he was a great kisser, but Draco was, too. We talked and laughed and kissed all night. And we were loud about it, too. And in Severus' bed.

Of course, none of that even registered into my head while I was doing it. It was like whatever thought trampled across my brain, I did it, and it was fun, and everything was like a blur--a fun, great blur, similar to when something amazing happens and it just won't stay in my brain. Like my first date. Consequences? They didn't even find a way into my brain.

Not only had we sat there and puked in Severus' quarters (and me, all over his nightshirt) but we had practically slammed his bedroom door in his face. Literally. He'd told us to go to bed, and us (being the bloody drunken idiots we were) decided to go into _his_ room, instead of the Slytherin common room. I hadn't really realized it then (in fact I hadn't even noticed it) but now that I thought about it, he had been following us, probably to grab our shoulders and explain what he'd meant, and we'd shut the door. In his face.

Severus had stayed out of the room all night, and I doubt he'd fallen asleep. And we'd been loud.

Right now, I was only in my bra and panties, arms wrapped around Draco, blankets pushed down on the foot of our bed, mouths swollen and moist, hair messed, and both of us smelling like sweat and alcohol, and we had horrible morning breath. We'd fallen asleep snogging. Literally. I think I passed out while his tongue was in my mouth, both of us rolling around and moaning, his hands roaming around places that I'd never had touched before . . . and my hands roaming into places I had never touched.

At some point during our little session, he'd . . . well, I suppose he'd fingered me. He'd asked me first, asked if it was okay, that if I didn't want him to he would stop. And I'd just laughed and told him that I wanted him to. I won't lie, it felt amazing. I wasn't stupid, and so I know that he'd basically fingered me into an orgasm. Which, by the way, was also amazing. He really knew what he was doing. And the noises I remember making only proved him right. Then what had I done? Repaid the favour.

For some reason, I'd expected his . . . Well, I touched it, didn't I? I should be able to say it. I expected a . . . penis to feel different, like . . . Well, I don't know, but it was smooth, and listening to him moan and gasp and grunt while I kissed him and . . . gave him manual pleasure . . .

Oh God.

When I woke up, for a few glorious moments I had thought it was all just a dream. That it wasn't real. Then I realized we were holding each other, and that it was all real. Draco had already been awake when I woke up, and I think it was him trying to pull out of our embrace that woke me. Sine I was awake now, and saw that he was too, I quickly pulled away from him.

I looked away form him and stared at the ceiling, my eyes burning with unshed tears. My stomach was churning horribly, and I swear I felt bile rising in my throat. Flashes of Draco's orgasmic face went through my mind, as did the sounds he made, as well as the sounds I'd made.

"_Good thing I read that diagram, huh?" Draco whispered while I clutched him, gasping, moaning, his finger exploring me expertly, knowing exactly where to touch. It felt so different than when I'd touched myself, so much better, and his mouth attacked mine hungrily . . ._

I shoved that thought away, but the memories of me watching my hand glide across his . . . member replaced it.

I shoved that thought away too and closed my eyes tightly, as if I could will that away. At least we hadn't had sex. If we'd had sex, I don't know if I could have handled it.

"Why won't you look at me?" Draco asked in a quiet tone.

I forced myself to turn and look at him, and our eyes met. His grey eyes were dull, his jaw was clenched, and his lips were pursed. I could see his eyes shimmering. He was trying not to cry.

"I'm looking at you," I whispered.

"Why are you so bloody upset? You're not going out with anyone," he spat.

It felt so strange, going out with Severus, and nobody knowing. Well, except Lupin, Sirius, and Dumbledore. I wanted to smack Draco and yell at him and tell him what a prat he was . . . But I couldn't. Everything that had happened had been my fault, too.

"I . . . I didn't know that would happen."

He blinked a few times. "You're not mad at me?"

"No. Just at myself."

He nodded slowly. We were on opposite sides of the bed suddenly. Draco was on his side, and I couldn't bring myself to look anywhere but his eyes. Last night, I swore he'd been drop dead gorgeous, with amazing blond hair and grey eyes, and a perfectly chiselled body. Now he was back to his normal, average looking self. Well, I guess Draco was somewhat attractive, but not like he had been last night. At the moment, though, he looked thrashed, and a bit ill.

"Nobody needs to know about this, all right, Dani? All we've learned is that we can't be drunk around each other, okay? We didn't have sex, and we were drunk, so what we did do doesn't matter anyway. Okay? Nobody needs to know. Ever. All right?" I knew why he sounded so urgent. If Pansy found out, she would leave him. Little did he know, but _my_ boyfriend had been in the room the entire night. Trust me, if there was any way I could keep this from him, I would, and so I understood completely why he wanted me to keep silent.

"I won't say a word," I promised. Just because I was going to get dumped, doesn't mean he had to get dumped too.

He nodded slowly, and I had another whiff of the sweat and alcohol that surrounded us. He furrowed his eyebrows. "What I said last night . . . that I loved you . . ." He closed his eyes, and let out a sigh.

I understood. "It's just the alcohol talking. I know we're just friends."

He opened his eyes and looked me over for a few seconds. He seemed to consider his words carefully, and I wondered if it was because he didn't want to offend me by saying he didn't love me. Of course, I guess I won't really know what he was considering, but that seemed like the most logical scenario. "Right. The alcohol."

Just then the door open and there stood Severus, still in his nightshirt. His eyes went directly to us, which made me blush, considering we were both only in our underwear, and then they went directly to the robes scattered on the floor. He looked back at us, his face a shade of brick red that I knew wasn't a very good sign.

Draco slid off of the bed and grabbed his robes, shimmying into them. He smiled briefly at Severus. "Sorry about stealing your bed, sir. I'm going . . . to breakfast."

"Lunch, Mister Malfoy," he spat. Draco looked taken aback by his tone, and the fact he'd called him by his last name. I think Severus usually referred to Draco by his first. Of course, Draco wouldn't understand why Severus was so upset. I knew, though, and I felt my stomach drop, my heart move into my throat, and my head start to pound. I had a massive headache. I'm sure that had nothing to do with Severus, though. "You are quite lucky today is Saturday, otherwise you would have missed your morning classes. I would suggest a shower before you go anywhere."

Draco blinked at him, apparently confused at his tone, but then shrugged and left the room, muttering a quick farewell to the both of us. Severus watched him leave, his arms folded over his chest. When the door shut, his black eyes went back to me, and I blushed, and felt my stomach churn a bit in fear. "You have something on your chest," he pointed out icily.

"Yeah, I know, I scratched myself when the Dark Lord was torturing . . ." I looked down to examine the harsh cuts on my flesh. But it became obvious very quickly that wasn't what he was talking about. There was something white and dry on my skin, crusting up, along my chest, and over my bra. I remembered last night that when Draco had . . . arrived . . . It shot up in a comical way, and I'd been looking down at it, and it had flown up, over my chest and in my hair . . .

My hand went up to my hair and I could feel it in there, like I'd applied too much gel, it hard and a little crunchy. I had Draco's . . . _stuff_ on me.

The bile that had been churning around in my stomach started coming up my throat, and I made a mad dash for the toilet. I practically slammed the washroom door open and fell to my knees in front of the toilet. As soon as my mouth was above the toilet (both seats were up, gratefully) I spewed.

My head pounded more and my stomach clenched, forcing more of its contents into the porcelain bowl. I clutched the cool sides and vomited again, tasting a mixture of stomach acid, sherry, and firewhiskey, which wasn't a very good combination.

I felt Severus pull my hair away from my face, but I knew he was still standing. I knew that my hair was greasy and disgusting, and I have no idea how Severus brought himself to hold it, knowing as I did that there was something other than grease in my hair that morning, knowing damn well what I had done last night.

I could feel the hot vomit running out of my nostrils and my mouth, my retching louder than it had been last night. My eyes were watering too, but I wasn't' sure if it was because I was vomiting or because of what had happened last night. I retched and my puke shot into the water, the stench reaching my plugged nostrils. I could still smell it thought, probably because it was leaking from my nose as well.

My chest and stomach ached horribly, and my whole body shivered, suddenly cold and weary. Severus held my hair back with one hand and rubbed my back with the other, which felt oddly comforting, considering I was only in my bra and underwear. I wondered why he was being so nice. Or was this just the calm before the storm?

When I was finished puking, I had a few dry heaves that made it impossible for me to breath for a few moments which made me panic, but after awhile I took in a deep breath and flushed the toilet. I knelt beside the porcelain for awhile, feeling the tile against my knees, which was actually quite comforting. I slowly stood up, my knees wobbly, my skin feeling clammy and my chest aching horribly.

Severus took a step away from me and regarded me coldly. "Take a shower. I'll leave your robes in my room." He then turned on his heel and left, slamming the washroom door shut behind him.

* * *

The shower had felt nice, and it was a bit awkward taking a shower in Severus' quarters, but what overshadowed this all was the fact that I had to wash the smell of sweat and alcohol off me, along with Draco's _stuff._ Severus had shampoo but no conditioner. I understood that--Severus' hair obviously didn't need conditioner, considering that would probably just make it greasier, Mine, on the other hand, needed it, because it looked fried without it. But I wasn't going to complain. I had no real reason to. He was allowing me to shower in his quarters, and I had cheated on him last night, even if we didn't have sex.

When I got out of the shower, I didn't even bother using his towel. I don't' know why, but I felt like that would be some sort of violation, or that it would be disgusting. So I just went into his room naked, sifted through my robes until I found my wand, and used a drying charm on myself before putting my robes back on. Thank God Severus had cleaned them of puke last night. I went back into his washroom and used the mouthwash he had, and promised myself I would brush my teeth later when I got back to the common room.

I went into the living room, my arms folded and my head bowed. Severus stood there, obviously waiting for me, and I couldn't' even bring myself to look him in the eyes.

"How dare you," he spat, and felt the tears spring into my eyes. His voice shook slightly out of anger. "How dare you be so irresponsible."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know . . . what I was like when drunk. I'd never been drunk before."

"Being drunk is not an excuse," he spat.

I opened my mouth to say otherwise, but realized he was right, and kept my mouth shut.

"Draco is not an Occlumens and I saw, very clearly, that he was not lying. You two . . . kissed heavily. You responded." I nodded, knowing damn well that lying would be pointless. He'd looked into my eyes last night and I thought he'd seemed betrayed. "Then you come here, and shut my own door in my face! Not to mention what I . . . _heard_ you two doing last night. Do you honestly try to make my life miserable?"

I tried to look at him, but I couldn't even raise my head. I continued looking at my feet, my stomach churning in disgust when I thought about what we'd done last night. "We didn't have sex. We just . . . touched each other. We didn't even do oral," I explained feebly, and I didn't know if I was talking to myself or him at the moment. All I knew was that I was trying not to cry. I'd never felt so ashamed in my entire life.

"I don't care! You are with me, Danielle, and not him!"

I pursed my lips together, then tossed my hair over my head. "It's not like you've never been drunk before," I said, petulantly.

"I beg your pardon?" he demanded, but I knew that he'd heard me.

I slowly looked up at him, and I saw that his teeth were clenched and his face was red. "Well, it's not like I knew that was going to happen! I didn't plan this!"

"You say you love me, but I seriously doubt it now. After all I have done for you, this is how you repay me? I almost killed a child for you, then I jeopardized everything to bring him here! Then I decided to become his legal guardian! Not even a full day after these events, you act foolishly; you get drunk!"

"I'm sorry! Draco asked me to go to the boys' night out, and we're friends, so I didn't think anything would happen! I'm sorry, okay? What do you want me to say?"

"Friends? If anything, last night proves that you are not _just_ friends."

Now Severus was saying what Sirius had told me. Did he forget we were drunk? Did he really have to make me feel even more ashamed than I already did? It was taking all of my energy not to burst into tears. I'd had a trying few days. Two days ago, I'd been tortured, and forced to torture a single mother, and save a little boy, and all day yesterday I'd worried about him and then, well, I got drunk . . . And now Severus was yelling at me. I felt horrible. "We're just friends, Severus, it was an accident."

"Lest you forget, Danielle, but he is an aspiring Death Eater. I care for the boy as much as you do, I care for him very much, but I do not forget that fact!"

"I know he's a future Death Eater! I've grown up with him! I'm sorry, okay? What do you want me to do? Fall to my knees and beg forgiveness? 'Cause I will! I swear to God I will! What does Draco's loyalties have anything to do with it? He's my best friend, but I love you! I didn't mean for this to happen!"

"I'm just trying to show you he's not as perfect as you think he is."

"I know that," I said loudly, throwing my hands in the air. "We were drunk, though," I explained quietly, somewhat darkly.

I felt both angry and ashamed. When people yelled at me, my natural instinct was to get angry, but yet, I was also feeling ashamed.

His face contorted angrily and he spluttered for a moment. "Drunk? Drunk? You think he didn't plan this? He's not as innocent as you think he is; he knew, at least subconsciously, what could happen! I'm not going to--I won't let you--"

"_Let_ me? _Let_ me?" I narrowed my eyes at him angrily. All right, I understood him being angry about what happened, but I was far from anybody's property!

His black eyes widened slightly. "I didn't mean . . . I just . . . He fancies you, Draco fancies you!" It sounded as though he had to literally wrench those words out of his mouth, as if saying it hurt him somehow. "And I don't want you getting hurt--he's a selfish, spoiled---" He looked at a loss for words, for once in his life. I'd never seen him unable to speak coherently. He was angry, that much was obvious, but I could tell that he was also fearful. I had never seen him afraid before, and him being afraid of losing me was nice, I guess, but that didn't change the fact that what he'd said upset me.

My eyebrows were both raised, high on my forehead, me slightly stunned at him being unable to speak. "I know Draco is spoiled, but we're just friends. What happened was an accident. I love you, Severus, not him." It hurt me he would think that way, but I understood of course. Still, Sirius and Pansy saying that about Draco was one thing; Severus saying it was another. Severus had performed Legilimency on him. Of course, we were drunk at the time, so it was obviously messed up, and he was angry, so I understood how he could get confused.

Severus didn't seem to have heard me. He looked like he'd been hit upside the head. He looked dazed; sick. I felt sick too. We stared at each other for a few moments.

"I'm sorry. I was drunk, and I wasn't thinking, but . . . It won't happen again, I swear it. I'm so sorry, Severus. But Draco and I really are just friends. What you saw last night, that was just . . . us being drunk. Look, if you're going to dump, just do it, because I--I don't deserve anything else, I know this, but I don't' want you to think that I love him. I love you. I'm sorry." My eyes were swimming with tears. "But you have no right treating me like your property, understand? I get that you're mad, but I'm not going to--that was just because we were drunk, and it doesn't affect what I feel for you or him."

He was looking at me, his face no longer red, but paling. He was staring at me, but I could tell by the look in his eyes that he wasn't looking at me--looking past me; looking at something that wasn't here. Was he so angry with me that he couldn't even look at me like I was here?

"I'm so sorry. If I could take back last night, I would. I wish that it would have never happened, and I'm so bloody sorry, and just thinking about it makes me sick. It makes me sick, knowing that he's touched me where you haven't, and that I've . . . touched him, and that my first . . . orgasm was with someone other than you," I said, bursting into tears suddenly. I turned away from him and covered my eyes, sobbing into my palms. "I didn't mean to. I didn't think it would happen! I'm so bloody sorry! Oh my God! I'm a slut! I'm so sorry!" I shouted through my tears, feeling everything come down on me at once, me sobbing so hard I could feel my body weaken.

"Danielle . . ." he began, still appearing dazed; not really looking at me.

I shook my head, still looking away form him, covering my eyes, sobbing into my palms. Everything from last night flashed through my head, making me sicker and sadder. I hadn't meant to.

I felt him grab my shoulder and force me to look at him. "Danielle . . . I can't . . ."

I gulped and sniffed. "I'm so disgusted with myself. I love you, Severus, and I'm so sorry, and I will get on my knees and beg your forgiveness, I swear I will . . ." I stared into his eyes finally, willing him to see how sorry I was. "Please don't leave me," I croaked, knowing I sounded pathetic. He looked down at me, but I couldn't tell his expression since my vision was blurry from my tears.

I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against his chest, sobbing into his nightshirt. I was clutching onto the front of his nightshirt, just sobbing into his chest. He did not hug me back, but just stood there.

I was sniffling and sobbing and gasping into his robes. "I don't love him," I promised through my tears, then i pulled away and looked into his eyes. "I don't love him," I said again, gulping, voice shaking. He still did not hug me. I was grateful that I couldn't really see his expression because my eyes were watery.

He wiped away the tears from my eyes so I could see him clearly. He was looking into my eyes, probably checking to make sure I was telling the truth. I let go of his robes and sniffled, trying not to sob too loud.

He was still looking at me blankly, as if I wasn't really there. It was like I didn't exist; like I was nothing in his eyes, and that was worse than him yelling at me.

"Severus?" I whispered, my voice breaking, the tears going down my face.

He blinked and he focused on me, and I recognized the look in his eyes immediately. It was the look that plagued my thoughts ever since I realized how much I looked like Harry's mum. He was staring at me like I was Lily; that faraway, intense gaze that was filled with regret.

It only lasted for a moment, before he barely shook his head and blinked his eyes, and that look disappeared.

"I think it's best you leave," he said, looking away from me, and stepping away as well. He sounded compeltley and utterly betrayed.

I stared at him, waiting to see if he was going to dump me. He wasn't facing me. He just looked in the other direction. For the first time in a long while, I'd known for a fact he wasn't looking at me, but at her.

I turned and left his quarters, sobbing the entire way to the common room.

* * *

I was standing outside of Potions, but it wasn't my class period next. No, it was Draco's period. It had spent the entire weekend in the dormitory, thinking hard. Severus hadn't said whether or not he was going to dump me. I had stayed in the room, and I'd skipped breakfast and lunch, so as to avoid Severus. I was afraid of what he might say. I knew I couldn't avoid him forever. Draco was in his class right now, and I really needed to talk to him.

When the bell rang and the class filed out, I was standing in front of the door, and Severus was standing beside his desk. The doors opened and I stood back far enough so that the students leaving wouldn't run into me. Our eyes met through the distance, and all the tension from last Saturday filled me, and my throat tightened. I tried to look away, but I couldn't, and it did look like he could either. I recognized the flash of silvery-blond hair and I tore my gaze from Severus to look at Draco.

Draco was leaving the classroom with Pansy holding onto his arm. "Draco, I need to talk to you," I said urgently, walking over to him, and I saw Severus was disappointed through my peripheral vision. I looked at Pansy. "I need to talk to you alone," I added just as urgently as the door shut behind the last student. I ignored Harry's glares as he passed me.

Draco seemed to understand immediately and nodded. "Right. Pansy, I'll meet you at the common room."

"But--"

"Pansy," he said, turning a rather nasty glare towards her. His tone made it quite clear that he was not willing to discuss this with her. She huffed and stormed off, and I completely understood her. I was not angry at her in the slightest.

We both waited for a few seconds to make sure she was really gone, and then he turned to me. He looked nervous, but for some reason, not in a bad way. "Yeah?" he said in a tone that made me wonder just how hard he was trying to sound casual.

"Look, about Friday night . . ."

"Yeah?" he said, more excited, perking up, his eyes widened. What was that about?

"Look, I've thought a lot about this, and . . ." I felt so horrible. I couldn't believe I was about to do this. I felt like even worse of a person than I had when I'd killed my mother, and when I'd tortured those people. For some reason, what I was about to do felt like more of a betrayal, like a more vicious thing to do.

"And?" he urged, stepping closer.

"And we can't be friends anymore. At all. I just don't' think we can . . . speak to each other anymore." I kept my voice neautral and tried to sound nonchalant, cruel even, like I was angry at him. I knew the fact my eyes were watering probably made it obvious to him I didn't want to do this at all.

His brows furrowed and she stared at me with betrayal and disgust etched on his face. "What?" he asked, incredulously.

"You heard me. After what happened, this . . . Thing with us has to end. We're not friends anymore from this moment on." I clenched my jaw together and ignored the hot tear that cut its way down my cheek.

"But . . . But that's just bloody stupid! It's makes no sense, Dani! What happened was a . . . drunken fluke! It wasn't like we had sex or anything, and what is your big problem, I'm the one with the girlfriend! We know to not drink together, that's all we have to change, all right? You don't even know what you're talking about!" he yelled, and it looked like he might cry, but I doubted that he would.

I knew what I was talking about. It wasn't something I wanted to do, but I knew it had to be done. If was going to prove my love to Severus, I had to. I had to show that he meant more to me than whatever this thing with Draco was. And I couldn't chance the fact it might happen again. Besides, looking at Draco made me feel disgusted, and it brought back images that made me feel guilty and want to vomit. I wasn't Severus' property, but I couldn't be around Draco anymore. Not after what had happened. I had thought about it all weekend. Severus had almost killed a child for me. He'd practically adopted Gabriel for me. What had I ever done; what had I ever sacrificed? If there was a way for me to make Friday not happen, then I would. I wanted to be friends with Draco, but I knew that I couldn't. It wasn't a thought that made me happy. In fact, it felt like I was cutting out a piece of my body. It was like a part of me was dying. But it was for the greater good.

"No, Draco, we can't be friends. All right? So let's just walk away from each other, and forget . . . Everything," I said, holding back my tears.

He stared at me, and I thought he was going to burst into tears. I might as well have taken a knife and stabbed him right in the stomach, the way he looked at me. We stared at each other a few seconds, me keeping my face as straight as possible, my eyes a little blurry, my skin underneath a little wet, but that was all.

He then jutted out his chin and tilted his head back, standing up straighter. "Piss off, then," he drawled, his outward appearance belying what he was feeling. I knew what he was feeling. Draco's eyes couldn't change like his jaw and posture could. He then walked past me, slamming his shoulder into mine.

And I think a part of me died.

I stood there for a second, listening to his footsteps fade away.

The doors to the Potions room opened, and I knew who it was before I turned and looked at him. I saw Severus standing there, in front of the doors, his arms folded across his chest. A faint line appeared between his eyebrows, and he frowned slightly. "I heard," he explained, without waiting for me to ask.

I nodded, my lips pursing. I was suddenly angry at him.

"That must have been hard . . ." he said quietly, but it sounded like he was talking more to himself than to me. "It wasn't needed, however."

"Don't tell me that," I snapped, my eyes suddenly swimming with tears.

"Danielle, I--"

"I hope you realize what I just did for you," I growled, then I turned away and walked off. Perhaps to some, it might not have been a big deal. Hell, even a few months ago, I would have been surprised at why I was reacting this way. I guess I didn't realize just how important Draco was to me until I realized what I had to do. Draco was extremely flawed, and spoiled, and a prat. But he was my friend, the one constant thing in my life--the only thing that kept me anchored for so long, and I hadn't even appreciated it.

If Severus didn't know I loved him now, then he wasn't nearly as smart as I thought he was.

If I was Lily, then Draco was my Severus. I guess history does repeat itself. If Severus ever knew he was the James in this version of it, he'd likely kill himself.

* * *

A/N--I want to clarify something--in no way am I glorifying cheating. Of course not. I do not agree with Danielle in any of this, and I actually agree with Severus. After what he's done for her, she did something extremely stupid. All right, so she hadn't planned it, and when you're drunk you do stupid things. Fine. But it was wrong.

This was the hardest chapter for me to write, emotionally. Last year, on Labour Day, my best (gay) friend and I got drunk together, not thinking anything would happen, considering he was gay and I was female. We both had boyfriends. I gave him a handjob. We did not kiss and he did not touch me, but I touched him. The next day, ifelt so horrible abotu it, and it is not somethign I'm proud of. Incidentally, I was in Draco's position. I wanted to forget it happened, move on with my life, and continue being friends. He told me we coudl no longer be freinds, and avoided me fro mthen on. So, basically, he was Dani, and I was Draco. What I did was wrong. I know this. I was so angry with him for reacting that way, and I gave him hell for it for awhile, but I realize now that he was right. And so, this is my shout out to him, calling him out for doing the right thing, and this chapter was basically me writing his reaction (through Dani) my reaction (through Draco) and my actual opinion on what I've done looking back on it (through Severus). By teh way, me and him made up, and are still best friends, and he is teh greatest person anyone could ever meet on this earth.

For those of you who are angry about what happened, I am sorry, but nobody is perfect. She is not a Mary Sue, and she makes mistakes. (She's also not a self-insert, by the way, we are very different, even though a few of the experiences are mine. She has a different personlity than me, and I didn't plan this situation happening, it just came out. We don't even look the same. Obviously, I based the plot after her looking like Lily.) I'm sorry if you can't look at me the same knowing that this was based of personal experience, but trust me, if you say "once a cheater, always a cheater" then you are wrong. He who is without sin cast the first stone. I have sworn off drinking alcohol around those who I am not dating. I have been drunk since then, but I am proud to report I have never done anything sexual while drunk except that once. I will never cheat again, because I think cheating is horrible and low, and I cannot believe I did that.

I saw Sweeney Todd today. I loved it. It was amazing. A-MA-ZING. Watch it.


	40. Chapter 43

Chapter 43: When I Don't Exist

It was a whole week later, and Severus still hadn't looked at me. He wouldn't even walk by my desk in Potions, which was easy for him, considering I sat in the back of the class. When he taught, his eyes casually skipped over me whenever he addressed the class as a whole. When I brought him a vial of my potion, he kept his eyes on an essay he was correcting. He did not speak. He did not acknowledge my presence. Ever. If I saw him in the hallway and smiled at him, or said a greeting of some kind, he was suddenly deaf and blind, and did not even glance in my direction or nod his head to show he'd heard me. It was like I didn't even exist. I preferred him hating me and yelling at me than not existing.

As for Draco, I caught him staring at me wistfully. A few times he started walking in my direction, but then he'd change his mind and walk back. At dinner a few times, he tried to strike up a conversation, but I'd ignore him. In fact, I actually stood up in the middle of him talking, and left, without finishing my dinner. I knew I was being cruel, and I knew I was doing just what Severus was doing to me, but it was what had to be done. It tore me up inside every time I did it, but I had to.

It seemed that I had given up Draco for no reason, and it was apparent to me that Severus had dumped me, despite what I had done to prove my love; despite my guilt.

I sat in the back of Potions, focusing entirely on my work. I'd looked up at Severus a few times, but he was studiously looking away from me. He knew I was looking at him. I could hardly see how he couldn't know. I wasn't trying to hide it. But he wouldn't even glance in my direction. I was nothing to him. Not anymore.

Finally, I finished my potion and put it in the stopper. I wasn't the first the finish, but I wasn't the last either, and there was still some time in class. I walked up to the room, my heart beating hard in my chest, my breathing laboured. I eyed the people still working, and those who had finished and were either dozing, or writing notes.

I stood in front of his desk for a few moments, staring at his bowed head, willing him to look at me. He was reading over something on his desk. I stood there for a few seconds, assuming that he would at least order me to set it down, or to stop standing there like an idiot, or anything, but he didn't look up form his desk. He didn't even make a noise to show he knew I was there.

I entertained the thought that perhaps I'd been hit with an invisible curse of some kind, but I knew it was ridiculous. I knew why he wouldn't look at me.

I sat my stopper on his desk, but I didn't remove my hand from it, still staring at him. He picked up a quill and started scratching something on the piece of parchment, his head not moving an inch. My grasp on the stopper was so tight that my hand was shaking, my knuckles white. It made a tiny clattering noise against the desk, which shook me out of my blank stare, so I quickly let go of the stopper. I stood there for a second, feeling my eyes burn, but anger burning hotter.

I took in a deep breath and turned around, strolling down the aisle, and sat at my desk, folding my arms and glaring at him, just waiting, waiting for him to look up. He never did, and I sat there, staring at him, hoping he would meet my eyes with his.

But he never did.

I was the last one out of class, like always, taking my time putting my things away. He didn't even seem to register someone was there.

I left the class in a horrible mood. I didn't want to go to the common room, knowing that Draco would be there, and he was going to either stare at me, or walk towards me and change his mind, and I was going to have to force myself to be cruel to him.

Slowly, I walked down the hall, hoping Severus would burst out of the Potions room and rush down the hall and sweep me into his arms and kiss me. But he didn't.

Nobody was in the library except Hermione Granger. She stared at me, as if waiting for something. I just smiled briefly at her, then sat down, and read one of the books I had in my bag. I didn't leave until Harry came in, and he glared at me. I didn't like seeing him much, since it frustrated me knowing he couldn't know where my loyalties were, and he hated me. When he sat beside Hermione, I stood up and left.

* * *

Draco and I were on opposite sides of the common room, me sitting alone, Draco surrounded by his usual group--Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, and Pansy. Blaise was, of course, nearby, by he was still a little angry with Draco for knocking him out and bruising his flawless features. Even though they were all talking and laughing, his eyes were not on them, but on me. I knew that he was looking at me, but I wasn't looking at him. I was looking at my knees, trying my hardest not to look up. I wanted to look at him. I wanted to walk over to his group and join him.

But I never did.

I read a book, having nothing else to do (well, other than homework, but I wasn't in the mood to do that) and sat there, while others slowly filed out of the common room, going up to their dormitories to sleep. With my peripheral vision, I could tell Draco wasn't leaving. After awhile, we were the only ones left in the common room, Pansy having retired although she didn't seem very happy to go with him still awake and me still there. She must be daft, seeing as we hadn't even spoke to each other for a week.

I heard Draco approach me, and I suddenly couldn't focus on what I was reading. He stood in front of me, and I could feel the tension thicken; I felt the need to speak, but neither of us said a word. He didn't move, though, and I wanted him too. Even though I wasn't reading, I turned the page.

I knew he was waiting for me to look up and regard him, but I never did.

I waited for him to leave.

Suddenly, he knocked the book out of my hands and I jumped, startled by this. I knew what he was doing. But I didn't want to look at him. I wouldn't look at him. No, I was a stubborn bitch, I knew that. So I refused to look at him. Draco wanted me to look at him, and I refused to give him the satisfaction of winning.

He made a frustrated noise, then stormed off, with that saunter of his. Only then did look at him, staring at the back of his head. I missed Draco so much, but he couldn't know that. I had taken up a habit of staring at the back of Draco's head.

I feared what would happen if he ever looked back to see me staring.

* * *

Another week, and nothing had happened. Thankfully, Draco hadn't done anything that attention getting so far, and had just taken up staring at me from afar, like I stared at Severus. I wondered if he really was in love with me, but I doubted he was, because if he did, he would have asked me out, or at least kissed me sober, instead of being with Pan--

He had.

Draco _had_ kissed me sober. Last year, on Valentines, before he gave me my necklace. And he hadn't shown any interest in Pansy at all, not until . . . Well, not until he asked me when it was okay to touch a girl romantically . . . He'd leaned in to kiss me then, and I'd winced and pulled away, and he'd said he was just testing my theory out, but what if . . .

No. No, I was wrong. I was just letting Severus and Sirius and Pansy get at me.

Was Draco loving me such a bad idea? I mean, it was obvious Severus had dumped me at this point in time, and maybe going out with Draco would make him jealous and take me back . . . Well, actually, I think dating Harry would do that better . . . What the hell was I thinking? That would only anger him further. Really.

But it was obvious he was very possessive, he'd said he wouldn't _let_ me, and I'd show him, I did what I wanted, sod him! Then he'd got really weird afterwards, and stared at me like I was Lily. How was I supposed to ever really be with him, with the shadow of Lily over my head? She had been his best friend, and he'd spent so long with her; loving her.

That must be how Severus felt with Draco--Draco was the shadow over his head. Which was why I'd stopped being friends with him. But it obviously wasn't working. Two whole weeks of this hell, being ignored, ignoring, and what had come of it? Absolutely nothing.

And Draco was not in love with me. And did I really expect forgiveness after what I'd done? But how could Severus be this way? He'd gone his last two years of Hogwarts without his loved one, and he must have begged for forgiveness, so he _must _know how this feels, so how could he do this to me? Damn him!

I sat in the back of Potions class, thinking of the last time I'd watched the back of Draco's head. He'd stopped in front of me again last night, but he hadn't knocked anything form my hands. If only he knew that I had looked at him, if he'd looked around, he'd know just how weak I was, and this whole thing would be over. I had to start being careful.

I kept glancing up at Severus while I added ingredients to my potion and stirred and boiled and chopped. Nothing changed. Even when he walked through the classroom, staring into cauldrons, he somehow managed to forget to walk by mine.

When I finished (I noticed it was taking me longer to finish my potions) I slowly walked up to his desk, feeling nervous and worried, like always. I stood at his desk, and he refused to look up at me.

Just like I always did, I kept my hand wrapped around the stopped while I sat it down on his desk, my eyes never leaving him. There was a dull ache in my chest when I stared at him, my eyes wet and burning. With a sigh, I turned to leave, my fingertips trailing along the wood of his desk.

I felt his hand on mine, warm and smooth and gentle. I stopped moving suddenly, staring at the door at the back of the room for a moment before I turned back to face him slowly. He was still not looking at me, but his hand was still on top of mine, and that was better than nothing. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. A second later he closed his mouth again, and removed his warm hand from mine.

I blinked a few times, feeling dazed, then turned back around, slowly walking to my desk, confused out of my mind. What had just happened? What had he been about to say? I glanced behind me in confusion and saw him staring at me wistfully, and my heart leapt suddenly. He quickly looked back down at his desk and face the back of the classroom again.

He'd been staring at the back of my head.

I sat down at my desk, looking at the desk, hoping that he would look at me again, like he had been, but he kept his head lowered until he stood out of his chair and began walking through the classroom, hands behind his back, looking into cauldrons as he passed. I watched him, my eyes following his every movement, until he walked behind me. Eh hadn't walked near my table for two whole weeks. I smiled when I felt his fingers brush my back lightly, from one shoulder blade to the other, and I could feel his presence right behind me. My eyes darted to everyone in the classroom, but because I sat in the back of the class, no one was looking at me.

He put his hands on my shoulders, and he bent down and kissed the top of my head, and I knew he was keeping his eyes on every student in the room, making sure that no one caught him do that. His hands slid off of my shoulders, and squeezed my upper arms, before he walked off, and I could tell that he was walking with a small spring in his step.

I don't know what I'd done, but apparently, he hadn't dumped me--or at least he'd taken me back. Whatever. I was glad either way.

When class ended, I (as usual) took my precious time putting my things away, knowing that he was still walking around the room, although there wasn't anybody in there except me. When I stood up and put my one-strap bag on my shoulder, I felt him wrap his arm around my abdomen and pull me against him. Feeling his chest move against my back.

It was suddenly extremely hot in the classroom.

I felt his slightly chapped lips on the nape of my neck (which he knew I liked, by the way) and smiled, closing my eyes, loving the feel of his lips on my skin again. He bit into my neck gently and I arched my back, taking in a sharp breath.

"You didn't have to abandon Draco," he whispered, his baritone thrumming through me.

"Yes, I did."

"I would never ask you to abandon your best friend."

So I'd done it for nothing. But he understood. And if Draco would take me back, then everything would be okay.

He used the hand that wasn't around my abdomen to brush away my hair from the side of my face, pressing light kisses up my cheek, each time leaving a warm imprint on my skin. "Forgive me, Danielle . . ." he whispered. I don't know what he was talking about, but I was going to forgive him anyway.

I turned around, and he reeled back, looking a little stunned, as I pushed the bag off of my shoulder, it falling to the floor with a thud. I stared up into his black eyes, smiling, and wrapped my around the back of his neck, leaning up to kiss him. Our lips met, and he opened his mouth, allowing my tongue entrance.

I swept my tongue against his, leaning against him, moaning, coaxing him to deepen it. He obliged hungrily, holding me tighter, clutching onto the back of my robes, and I knew that all was good again.

* * *

When I saw Draco in the hallway, walking towards the common room, alone, after dinner, I smiled. I wondered where Pansy was, but I wasn't going to let this opportunity slide. I was so happy, Severus and I were together again, and I didn't have to be a bitch to Draco. Now, if he was willing ot forgive, well, that was another question.

He saw me in the hall and stopped, realizing that I was looking at him. Throwing caution to the wind, and overcome with emotion suddenly, I ran towards him, wrapping my arms around him, laughing. "Draco!" I greeted excitedly.

I hugged him tightly, and he remained still, not moving, not hugging me back. I held him tightly. If he didn't want to hug me back, if he didn't want to forgive me, I'd understand. But that didn't mean it wasn't going to hurt, but at least I had Severus . . .

I pulled away, staring into his stunned face. I stood away from him, my hands dropping to my sides, feeling a little embarrassed and awkward. I nodded once at him and went to walk away, but then he threw himself on me so hard and wrapped his arms around me so tightly that he knocked the wind out of me for a second. I stumbled under his weight, then I pulled him close to me again.

"I'm sorry, Draco, I was out of line," I whispered.

He pulled away, and his eyes were shining suspiciously. He kept his arms around me, although his head was no longer on my shoulder. "Damn right you were. Don't do it again."

"I won't."

"I told myself I was going to be rude to you today," he told me with an eyebrow raised haughtily.

"Why weren't you?"

"Didn't really want to." I nodded, understanding. He stood away from me, done hugging me, but his face practically glowed, and he allowed himself a moment to smile. He reached forward and held the side of my face. I frowned a bit, but didn't pull away. He brushed my hair away from me face. "Dani, I've done a lot of thinking recently, and I do love Pansy, but . . . not as mu--"

"Hey, Draco," Pansy said, coming out of a nearby door, which I realized was the girls' lavatory. Draco lowered his hand suddenly and took a step back, clearing his throat, and giving me a shut-up-or-I'll-kill-you glare.

"Done already? You girls usually tend to go for hours," he drawled, walking over to her and kissing her quickly on the lips before she looped her arm through his and leaned her head on his shoulder.

I nodded at Draco and turned around, walking quickly to the common room, feeling extremely awkward. I forced myself to ignore what Draco had been about to say, and pushed it from my mind. I told myself that he had been about to say 'not as much as our friendship' or 'not as much so as to abandon you like you did me, and there's no reason for you to want to stop this friendship in fear I love you, because I don't love you romantically' or even 'not as much as you love Severus, and that's all right, because one day I will love her as much as you love him, and I don't love you' or something else to that extent.

He had not been going to say 'not as much as I love you' because then that would mean I was wrong, and I couldn't be. If he wanted me that much, he would not be with Pansy. He would dump her.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remembered when Severus had asked Dumbledore if it was possible to love two people at the same time.

"_I do, Severus."_

* * *

A/N--Oh, by the way, I would like to thank Druid for what she said in her review of the last chapter. I would have replied through PM, but you are anonymous, but anyway, you are absolutely right, and I just wanted to thank you for letting your opinion be known, and it was very helpful, thank you.

I would like to put my opinion of Draco here, so you understand. Draco wants friendship, I think, more than most people would think. He was an only child, and had no friends for a long time growing up besides Dani. The reason I think Draco would want friends so much is because in DH, he grabs Goyle and pulls him away from the fire, saving him, despite them being stupid and them kinda abandoning him. He surrounds himself with people. He also tried to befriend Harry in Madam Malkin's before realizing who he was. This is why I made Draco forgive Dani.

Also, something is wrong with my internet, and it uploaded this chapter like eight times. Sorry about that. It was weird. (This was added after me reading my emails.)


	41. Chapter 44

Chapter 44: Awkward Questions

"Now, Severus will come here as soon as he can, but it seems that Voldemort had need of him right after his classes," Dumbledore explained as I let go of his arm, shaking off the feeling I always got after Side-Along Apparation. I couldn't wait until I could Apparate by myself. I was finally starting to catch onto the whole Apparation thing. It was a lot harder than I thought it would be. The way that people just Apparated and Disapparated, I'd thought that it was simple. It's no wonder they make a whole class for it.

I smiled at Dumbledore. "All right. I don't mind hanging out here for a bit."

He nodded and Disapparated with a crack.

I walked into the kitchen to see Sirius opening random cupboards and shutting them quickly, making a show of closing them, so that they shut loudly, much louder than necessary, a small smile on his face. He saw me and turned to face me, and nodded at me. "We're just playing hide and go seek. Remus is looking around upstairs, but . . ." He jerked his thumb towards a cupboard underneath the sink that I heard giggling in, and I recognized the giggles as Gabriel's.

"Oh," I said, catching on quickly.

"Anyway, do you want to help me find Gabriel? I just can't think of where to find him! I think he's disappeared, Dani!" he said in a loud voice.

"Dani?" I heard from the cupboard under the sink. There was a thud and the sound of several things falling over, then a bang, and Gabriel came darting out of the cupboard, a wide smile on his face, blue eyes twinkling. "Dani!" he shouted, leaping into my arms. I held him tightly and spun while I laughed whiel I spun, holding him near me, spinning and laughing. I sat him back down on the ground, and he quickly hugged my waist, then pulled away, still beaming. I ruffled his slightly shaggy light-brown hair.

Sirius let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head. "Come to pick him up then? Tell you what, I don't remember eating that much when I was his age." I looked down at Gabriel and at his thin frame, doubting that he really ate very much.

"Did you know he turns into a dog? He showed me, and he let me ride around on him . . . But then he said I weighed too much, so then he gave me a piggy-back ride, but he didn't turn into a pig. He can only turn into a dog. Did you know that I will be eight in December? That's probably why I weigh so much, and I couldn't ride on him anymore, well, as a dog, when he was a human I could. Anyway, he has this friend, Remus, and guess what? He's a _werewolf_ but then Severus came over and made him drink juice and then he just walked around and I got to pet a _werewolf_ and it was _awesome_ but he can't turn into a wolf whenever he wants, so you can't pet him today."

I remembered there had been a full moon during the past two week, back when Severus and I weren't talking, and I was a little impressed that Severus had made the Potion, considering Lupin didn't teach at Hogwarts anymore. Maybe he had some in his personal stores and just brought during a meeting or something.

"There's a girl who can change her hair and nose and face and stuff. She's funny."

"Oh, I know her."

"You should see Sirius's room . . ." he said with a silly grin on his face, and red cheeks, shuffling around nervously.

Sirius laughed louder, then walked out of the kitchen, indicating for us to follow him with a few jerks of his index finger. We followed Sirius up the stairs, me staring at the severed house elf heads that lined the walls and furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. I hadn't seen those before . . . That's a bit disgusting. I did like the snake heads for knobs and on the railings, of course, snakes were obvious, but the heads on the walls really put me off.

Sirius opened his bedroom door, and the first thing I noticed was crimson and gold. Everywhere. Banners, tapestries . . . Thinking on it, red was an actually nice colour, but . . . well . . . mixed with gold? I don't know, it didn't really look very good together. Personally, I liked green and silver better, but well, Sirius was a Gryffindor. I don't really see why wanted me to . . .

Oh.

I almost laughed. There were muggle posters of girls in bikinis on the walls, and Gabriel was staring at them, but he kept ducking his head like he was doing something bad. Sirius smirked at me, indicating Gabriel with a nod of his head.

"I imagine you don't the colour scheme much," Sirius said with a smile. "But, well, if you could've seen the look on my mother's face, you would have done it too."

"Oh, I found a picture of you, Dani," Gabriel said. It seems like Sirius got him in the habit of saying my nickname too. I looked at Sirius in confusion, and he looked more interested in a banner on the wall than me.

I was confused at why Sirius would even have a picture of me, and why he would look away. I opened my mouth to ask him, but then Gabriel thrust a picture and a letter in my hand. "There, it's a wizard picture, 'cause it moves. But there's you! I tried to read the letter too, but look, there's your middle name."

Not me. I could see where he made the mistake, though, seeing as the person in the picture was Lily. She was beautiful, as usual. More beautiful than I was. I really wished I had her wavy hair . . . Mine was so boring and straight, and she had that straight, thin, perfect nose, whereas I had that button nose that curved like a ski slope of some kind. I could spot the differences between us immediately, as I'm sure Severus could, but a seven-year-old kid? Of course he'd think it was me.

Apparently Lily was with James and Harry, but Harry couldn't have been older than a year. He was flying a little toy broom. Mum had gotten me one when I was younger and I tried riding it once, but I didn't like it because I always fell off of it and got hurt. James was chasing after him.

I quickly read over the note--Lily was writing to Sirius about Harry and how he missed his godfather, and something about Dumbledore being friends with Grindelwald (laughable, really, seeing as Dumbledore kicked Grindelwald's arse in a duel that lasted hours) and the toy broom he'd given him, but reading it made me feel a little sad. I'd never seen her handwriting before. She had rather nice handwriting. Better than mine. Then again, she was also older. I blinked a few times, then handed them over to Sirius with a brief smile, feeling awkward as he took them.

"That's not me, Gabriel, that's my dad's niece. Her name was Lily. Obviously, that's where I got my middle name."

He blinked a few times, the nodded. "Oh . . . all right. You two are very pretty. Anyway, when is Severus getting here? Don't I live with you and him now?"

"Bit of a hurry to get out of here, then, huh?" Sirius said in a joking manner, but I got the feeling that a part of him felt a little disappointed.

Gabriel sighed. "Duh, no, but you're gonna be my uncle. You can't live with your uncle."

Sirius scoffed and shook his head, but I could tell he was amused. "Yeah, right, me related to Snivelly, that's a good one."

"Severus," I corrected, but I knew he wouldn't ever listen to me.

"Who's Snivelly?" Gabriel asked.

"I don't know," I answered, glaring at Sirius. The last thing he needed to do was teach Gabriel that endearing little nickname. Sirius just shrugged. "So, did you stay in this room?"

"No, he stayed in Regulus' room. That one you'd' probably like. My little berk of a brother was the perfect little Slytherin; Death Eater and all. Got killed though, when he tried to back out." He didn't seem to sad about it. He just stated it like he was telling me what colour snow was.

Remus walked into the room, then he looked at us, apparently confused. "Oh, is this game over?" he asked nonchalantly, shutting the door behind him.

"Severus will be here soon to pick me up. Apparently the Dark Lord wanted him for something."

"The Dark Lord is Voldemort, in case you didn't know," Gabriel informed, nodding importantly. "He's ugly and evil, and we have to fight him. Dumbledore told me. Bellatrix works for him too, and she's a bitch."

I gasped and stared at him in shock. Sirius laughed and Remus looked like he was trying not to join Sirius in laughter. "Gabriel! We don't say that word!"

He just sighed and rolled his eyes. "I say what I want to say. You're not my mother."

"Oh really? Well, I'll just have to wash you mouth out with soap, then," I threatened, pulling out my wand. I'd called my mum a bitch when I was about nine, and she'd used scourigify on me, and it hadn't been pleasant.

"You'll have to catch me first," he said with a smug little smirk.

"I'm magic, Gabriel, remember?" I warned. I couldn't bring myself to actually do it. It seemed so harsh and mean. So did slapping and spanking, and, well, time out, too. I should probably work on the discipline thing . . .

"Oh . . . Well, she's still not a nice person," he said hastily, stepping away from me, putting slightly and making his eyes wide and somehow sparkly. Ooh, he looked so cute . . . "Anyway, I saw Voldemort, and he's not a nice guy either. He killed a guy with a green light. Can you fight him Dani?"

"Er . . . no," I answered honestly, feeling a little strange.

Gabriel looked between us all, worried slightly. "That man killed my mummy. He has to die. I know this. In the movies, whenever a bad guy kills someone good, then we have to kill that bad guy. I know that. You know what we could do? We could get him in this building, and shoot him with guns, and blow up all his bad guy friends with bombs." He nodded smartly, putting his hands behind his back.

"He's actually a really good fighter, Gabriel, but we are working on it," I said, smiling in what I hope was a comforting way.

"Wait . . . Why is Severus talking to him? Is Severus going to kill him?"

Oops. Slip of the tongue.

I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Sirius looked like he was at as much of a loss as I was, and I panicked, trying to think of something believable to say.

"You see, Gabriel," Lupin said, stepping forward, after a second's silence, "Voldemort . . . is a very smart man. Guns and bombs won't work on him. We can't necessarily get too close to him. Most people don't even believe he's alive. He has many people who follow him, who think he's . . . a good guy, and they do everything he says."

Gabriel was staring at Lupin strangely, as if Lupin had just told him his cat had died. Sirius and I shared a glance. "So . . . why can't we just shoot him and throw him out a window or something? Bad guys always have friends. We just shoot them and then he kidnaps someone we love and then we shove him out a window and save the hostage. Duh."

"He has magic, just like we do," Lupin said slowly, patiently. "He has many, many . . . Plans, and so sometimes, we need to send someone in to find out those plans by pretending to be one of his friends. Severus does this. It's a very dangerous job, but essential."

"Severus is a spy, then. You could've just said that," Gabriel said as if it were obvious. Lupin looked stunned that Gabriel was so understanding. Then again, to a little boy, being a spy must be the height of cool. I was stunned, too. He didn't say 'well, how do you know which side he he's really on?' or 'What? How dare he betray me! How dare he not avenge my mother's death!' or something else like that (although probably a bit less melodramatic.) "I'm seven now, and a big boy. I understand these sorts of things. So, er, he's got a lot of friends and bad guys and weapons and stuff? So, how are we going to beat him?"

Kids were so naïve, but Gabriel was really blunt as well. He asked the questions that needed to be asked. And he was trusting. That could actually be a bad thing. But he trusted us, and we were the good guys, so at least the Dark Lord wasn't a hold of him, feeding him lies. Kids were so easy to manipulate . . . It's probably a good things I knew my mother lied and so I never believed anything she said, otherwise I might be brainwashed. Then again, everyone had thought the Dark Lord was dead, and so it wasn't like she'd thought he was coming back and she needed to force his beliefs on me . . .

Lupin looked at us, as if asking for us to tell him what to say. I thought he was actually doing quite a good job, so I just shrugged and Sirius did as well. Lupin sighed. "Yes, Gabriel, you're right. Voldemort does have many things--but you shouldn't worry. We have something that he doesn't," he said in a consoling way.

We had something worth fighting for. Yes, Dumbledore had told me that once, and that something worth fighting for was love. Dumbledore really put a lot of faith into that fickle emotion, and I doubted that 'love' could really stop the Dark Lord, but it was a nice notion anyway.

"Noses?" Gabriel suggested with a straight face.

For a second, I didn't quite understand. It didn't make sense to me. Had Gabriel heard him correctly? Judging by their faces, they were as clueless as I was. And then, it clicked .The Dark Lord didn't have a nose.

I burst into laughter quite suddenly, realizing that, yes, we all did have noses, and he didn't. If only it were that simple, defeating the Dark Lord. But he was right. I had always thoguth the Dark Lord quite intimidating, with his crimson eyes, and white skin, and long fingers, and the lipless mouth . . . And yes, eve nteh fact he had no nose had frightened me. But now, whe ni thoguth about it, he did look quite ridiculous.

I was laughing so hard I was finding it hard to breath, and my tears were starting to water up. Sirius had actually fallen over so that he was sitting on his bed, clutching his stomach, his deep baritone reverberating throughout the room. Even Lupin was laughing.

My sides started hurting, but I really couldn't stop. Gabriel was on the floor, his light, boyish laugh just as loud as ours, his little fist pounding the ground, his face red, sounding somewhat breathless. "He looks so funny!" Gabriel shouted out, rolling around on his back.

We all laughed harder, tears streaming down my face. I was laughing so hard my body felt weak, and I had to lean against the wall for support.

We all managed to slow to a stop, my sides aching and my eyes wet, a large grin plastered on my face, Sirius looking happier than I had ever seen him, and Lupin looking younger. Well, actually, he looked closer to his age. He had always looked older than he really was.

"Well, he doesn't have a nose," Gabriel pointed out, still smiling widely. "And he doesn't have eyebrows, either, or a mouth. He looks so funny."

"You're right, of course, we do have noses," Lupin said, amusement still in his tone. "But this, _this,"_ he said, indicating all of us, staring down at him with a knowing look, "friends, family, love . . . Laughing, well, he doesn't have that. And that's why we're going to win, Gabriel, and that's why he's going to die."

Gabriel furrowed his eyebrow, looking thoughtful. "Why would you want to live without this anyway?"

Neither of us had an answer to that. For once, I think _not_ having an answer was a good sign.

There were a few knocks on the door, and then Tonks came in, her hair a violent shade of bubblegum pink, a small smile on her face. "Wotcher, guys. What's all this laughing about?" she greeted, looking around at all of us. Lupin cleared his throat and nodded at her, although he seemed more interested in the room. Odd. "Hello, Remus," Tonks said, smiling at him.

"Well, I hate to leave you like this, but I have something that needs to be done," Lupin aired, smiling briefly at all of us. He barely nodded and Tonks, then hurried out of the room, and I heard the crack associated with Apparation. Hmm. Must've been something important.

Tonks furrowed her eyebrows, then looked down at Gabriel. "Wotcher, Gabe, how's it been?"

"Oh, everything's good. Dani and Severus are going to take me home today."

"Dani and Snape? I thought Snape was your guardian now?" Tonks asked, looking over at me, confused. She didn't know we were together.

I felt like I was in the spotlight suddenly, but then Sirius sighed, exasperated. "He's off doing Voldemort's bidding, since he's a _spy_ and all. He just sent her here to watch over Gabriel until then. I don't think the bastard trusts me. Besides, Dani here knows where Snape lives, in case something comes up and she needs to take him there." He rolled his eyes. He lied very well. I'm sure he lied to his parents a lot growing up.

I made a mental note to thank him later.

"Oh . . . Well, that makes sense I guess. Plus, Dani is the one who saved Gabriel. Anyway, I was just dropping by to say hello to you all," she said, looking at the door for a second, somewhat wistfully. "I heard Remus was here, and I thought maybe er . . . there was a meeting. Anyway, I'll drop by some other time. We'll have a little family get together." She nodded, not looking as happy as she normally looked, and Disapparated.

Strange. She's been lying. I guess Legilimency paid off.

Sirius looked rather upset, but he didn't say anything. Tonks was his favourite cousin's daughter, I remember him telling me that, so I guess it would sting that she'd only dropped by for a few seconds. That really had been odd. I wonder if something happened between them, like they got into a fight.

"She's pretty," Gabriel said with a slight blush on his cheeks.

"Well, I give you both my blessings. Mind me, though, Gabriel, you hurt my cousin, and you'll get a beating," Sirius said with a half-smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Ew, gross, I'm too young for a girlfriend. I can't have a girlfriend until I'm at least twelve."

"I hope a little later than that," I said, shocked. Twelve? I hadn't even had my first kiss until I was fifteen, and that had been with Draco and didn't count anyway. And it hadn't meant anything, because Draco didn't have feelings for me. In no way did he feel for me other than a friend would feel for another friend. I hadn't had my first real kiss until I was sixteen.

"Come on, don't be such a prude. I had my first kiss when I was ten. She was my first girlfriend, too," Sirius said.

"Oh, see, I always thought you were into boys," I said with a smirk, folding my arms across my chest.

"Funny, that's what I always thought about your boyfriend . . ."

"My mum had a friend who liked boys. He was gay. Is this a bad thing? 'Cause I don't see why it's bad," Gabriel asked, looking between us curiously.

I shook my head. "No, it isn't a bad thing. We're just joking with each other."

"One time I saw two girls kissing," Gabriel stated with a grin on his face, a blush on his cheeks while he looked away from me.

"Oh, I have a picture of two girls kissing somewhere . . ." Sirius said, looking around his room thoughtfully.

"It's in the bathroom. I saw it when I was pooping the other day," Gabriel said. "They were naked girls. Why was it in the bathroom? If you dropped it in the tub, it would have ruined it. That's kinda dumb."

I smirked at Sirius and he looked at me somewhat fearfully. I raised my eyebrows at him and put my hands behind my back. "Yeah, Sirius, why _was_ it in the bathroom? Funny place to have pictures of naked girls kissing, if you ask me," I said, feigning innocence.

"Shut up," he muttered.

Gabriel was completely confused. That much was apparently by the way he looked at us. Well, I need to go pee, so maybe I'll bring it back with me," he said, shaking his head and muttering something about 'grown-ups' as he left the room. He didn't' shut the door, so it swayed slightly, revealing the hall behind it.

Sirius stared at the door thoughtfully, and I thought he looked a little sad. I furrowed my eyebrows at him. "Is everything all right?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, fine. He's a good kid. Gets kinda lonely here. But, well, I figure it's what's best. I don't think I'm that great of a father figure anyway . . ." He furrowed his eyebrows, looking downwards for a second, and I felt a twinge of sadness for him. I hadn't really realized just how tough it must have been for him, being alone in the house he'd grown up in, unable to leave. He shook his head and smiled at me. "When we win this war, and when everyone knows I'm innocent, Harry's going to move in here with me, or we'll go find some other place to live. Well, either that, or we'll visit each other all the time, if he has his own place to stay. Maybe then you two can work some things out. We could be a proper family."

I don't' know what made my chest ache more--what he'd said, or the tone he'd said it in. He had this wistful air about him, and I thought I saw his eyes shine for a second.

"Yeah, a proper family. I think that might be nice," I said, thinking about having dinner with Sirius and Harry and all their friends, and all of us talking about anything other than the Dark Lord. We would be teasing each other and sipping wine (all right, maybe not sipping wine, but my experiences with family dinners were with the Malfoy family, so my vision of a family dinner was a little skewed by that) and we'd be happy, and Severus would be there, and Harry and him and Sirius would be civil. Not nice, but civil. And Gabriel would be saying all those innocently funny things he always spouted off, and everything would be . . . Normal.

"I'm sorry I called you Evans last time," he said suddenly.

I cleared my throat, feeling suddenly awkward. "Yeah, well . . . It's all right."

"No it's not. You're your own person, and you shouldn't have to sit and wonder if we all like you because of that, or because of her. I didn't even realize what I'd said until after I said it. How come you didn't say anything?"

"It's not the first time it's happened, Sirius, nor was it the most awkward," I promised, thinking of all the times I'd known Severus was looking at her instead of me, most recent of all our last little argument, the morning after I got drunk. I thought about all the times my mother and I got into an argument and she'd called me Lily, too. I hadn't necessarily lied when I told Gabriel my mother never called me by my middle name, because even then I knew it wasn't me she was yelling at. Even the Dark Lord like to mention how much I looked like her every now and again. It wasn't like I could help it. Mostly everyone around me had to be plagued by her when they saw me.

"You mean, what, Snape's called you Lily before? God I hope it wasn't during sex."

"God, Sirius, we haven't even had sex. I'm a virgin, thank you. Nor have we done anything that would require him to scream out any names," I spat, feeling suddenly queasy, remembering that I'd been given an orgasm by Draco and not my boyfriend. Severus hadn't even put his hand on my breast. Ever. Wow, that must have been a crush to his ego. He'd never even touched me on my breast, and Draco's had had his fingers in me. Just bloody great.

"Oh," he said with a shrug. "He disgusts you or something?"

"No!" I spat, looking him up and down. "I'm just not ready for that stuff yet, Sirius. God! No, he just asked me to put something away and called me Lily."

Sirius nodded, shrugging half-heartedly. "Hmm. Well, I had to ask. Anyway, are you two fighting or something? He was over for a meeting, he gave Remus his potion, and I asked him how you were doing, and he told me to sod off. Well, he didn't actually say 'sod off' but he was his usual charming self," he said darkly, narrowing his eyes at the thought of whatever Severus had said. It probably hadn't been very nice. But it wasn't like Sirius was nice to him either. They both dished it out, so I couldn't really pick sides, although, naturally, I was a bit more on Severus' side.

"We _were_ fighting."

"About?"

I cleared my throat. "No offence, but it really isn't any of your business."

"Oh. Well, as long as you're fine now, I guess," he said, but I really doubted he meant it.

"Yeah, we're fine," I said. It had only been a few days since we made up. Today was Friday, and so I had the weekend to introduce Gabriel to Spinner's End, and on Monday he would be going to the primary school in that area. It was weird, knowing I was going to be practically spending the weekend with my boyfriend and a kid I barely knew, but it was what made the most sense.

We'd talked it over, and we would both 'raise' him, but I would naturally be able to spend more time with him. I'd go to Spinner's End after classes, since I would be getting there around the same time Gabriel would be getting off his bus, and then in the morning I'd make sure he made it to the bus stop, and then I'd go back to school. Severus would, of course, have to Apparate me to and from, considering Umbridge was a stupid dozy cow who had all of the fireplaces under surveillance and Dumbledore had said he didn't think it wise for anyone to notice how often I was accompanying a professor of mine to his home and spending the night there. Severus was, of course, allowed to use his own Floo, since he was supposed to take care of Gabriel, but it wouldn't go unnoticed if they saw me with him every time.

Even though it was really unnecessary, Severus and Dumbledore even worked in Gabriel's first name into their story. They'd made up this story that Tobias was a family name, and that Gabriel was his half-brother, having taken his father's name (Tobias) and that the mother had died, and Gabriel had been thrust into Tobias' care, but since Tobias was retired and couldn't afford to take care of a child he hadn't seen for seven years, Severus would take care of him instead. Tobias had been a nice touch--unnecessary, but it was like the icing on the cake.

I was plagued by the way he'd looked at me though. I'd never seen Severus splutter like that, and he hadn't looked at me like Lily for a long time. I hated how history tended to repeat itself around me a lot. It wasn't' fair, but then again, life wasn't' fair. Still, it was so frustrating that it happened without me really knowing how it was happening. I think I deserved to know more than anyone. Still, it was bothersome that he would get so afraid of losing me to Draco . . . because Draco didn't feel for me that way . . . And I certainly didn't feel that way about Draco. But, well, Draco did sort of seem . . . No, I wasn't going to dwell on that.

"He cries at night," Sirius said quietly, looking downward. For a minute, I thought he was talking about Severus, and I stared at him, puzzled. Why would he know if Severus cried at night? "Gabriel, I mean. I heard him crying in his sleep. He talks to himself, too. But his mum just died, and she seems like a decent woman unlike my dear, charming mother, so I wager it's normal."

I nodded. "Yeah . . . I was really sad when my mum died too. I stayed in bed for two weeks, and I forgot to feed Prince, my snake. Yeah, I was a right bitch, too."

"I don't imagine Kensith was really that great of a person, but, well . . . she was your mum."

"You . . . You do know I killed her, right?"

"What?" came a small voice behind me. I spun around and saw Gabriel looking at me. "You killed your mum?"

"Uh, she was a bad guy. She worked for the Dark Lord. She was evil. Like Bellatrix. I had to," I said quickly, panicking slightly.

He furrowed his eyebrows for a moment. "Your mum . . . was evil? That sucks. Anyway, Severus is here. I saw him down the stairs. Are we going? I get tire of wearing old funny clothes that smell like grandma's closet." He indicated a pair of robes that had obviously belonged to either Sirius or Regulus back when they were his age.

"Yeah, we'll be going soon. And don't worry, we picked up everything from your house," I said. I'd remembered his address from one of his mother's memories. He nodded then left the room, me feeling a little awkward. How was it that Gabriel just everything at face value? He wasn't upset at all at me having to kill my mum?

I shook my head, and turned around to face Sirius. "I'll see you later, Sirius."

He pulled me into a one-arm hug, and I felt a little strange at being hugged by someone other than Severus or Draco. I had one arm wrapped around his back too, and I realized this was a . . . familial hug. I seen this hug between Draco and Lucius.

We pulled away and he clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Try not to let him get away with too much. He does this eye thing, and he pouts. I recognized it right away. You'd be surprised how many people fall for it. I used to do it all the time."

I nodded at him. "All right. See you later, Sirius."

He nodded once at me, and I left his room, shutting the door behind me, looking at Severus, who was holding Gabriel's hand, with an eyebrow raised. "I think I remember him using that eye trick on Slughorn once . . ."

"Slughorn?"

"Our Potions master and my head of house. Are you done? Or do you wish to give him a kiss as well?" he asked with a slightly mocking tone and a slight lift on the side of his mouth.

"It was just a hug. I wouldn't ever kiss him."

"He doesn't like boys and girls kissing, duh," Gabriel said as I looped my arm through Severus'.

"Sirius is gay?" Severus asked, his eyes wide. It looked like Christmas had come early, and I could see thousands of insults running through his head. I wondered if Severus knew Dumbledore was gay. "I cannot let that go unmentioned the next I see him," he said, an evil smirk playing on his features.

"No, he just likes gay girls kissing. Oh, I left that picture of those naked girls kissing in the bathroom! Shit!"

"In the bathroom?" Severus repeated, looking rather amused.

"Watch your language," I said towards Gabriel, and he just pouted, his eyes suddenly sparkling and his head bowed a little bit.

"Sorry," he said in the most pathetic voice I'd ever heard.

"We're not falling for it, Gabriel," Severus said with a glare in his direction, and then with a crack, we Disapparated.

* * *

A/N--sadly, the whole 'noses' thign does not belogn to me, but to my brother. We were watchign OotP last night, and at the end when Harry says, "But we have something that he doesn't," and before he could finish the quote, my brother said, "Yeah, noses."

I will msot likely be at my mothe'rs house until Jan. 2nd, so you might not get many updates from me for awhile. Also, on Dec. 28th, it is my 1st cousin's birthday, and he is Gabriel. Literally. He just has a different name. Anyway, that's who I based him after, and so Gabriel has the same birthday as him. (Different year. My cousin was born in 1999) anyway, he's a handy little tip for any birthdays in my fic, just in case you're wondering.

Severus--January 9, 1960 (Capricorn)

Danielle--August 17, 1979 (Leo)

Draco--June 5, 1980 (Gemini) (my brother's is June 5th, 1992, so he is a monkey just like Draco haha)

Gabriel--December 28th, 1988 (Capricorn) (Dragon)

Anyway, I want to wish those of you who celebrate Christmas a happy Christmas. I hope you have fun with your families!


	42. Chapter 45

**Warning: This chapter contains spoilers for the movie Die Hard (slight reference to With A Vengence) as well as the book _Nothing Lasts Forever._**

**Oh, and I just realized I do not have a disclaimor on any of my fics. Do you want to know why? Because I am really JK Rowling. Truly. And I am writing fanfic for something I get paid for already. Really, guys, what's the point of a disclaimor? It Fan Fiction (dot) Net for Pete's sake, is any of it original? By the way, I am not really JK Rowling, for those of you who might be conspiracy theorists . . . or am I?**

* * *

Chapter 45: Living Together

I looked around the living room when he Apparated into his house. I looked around at all of the books lining the walls, at how shabby it looked and neglected, and I will admit, I felt a little let down. Not to sound like a bitch or anything, but this house really wasn't the best. It was everything a house _needed _to be, I guess. It had all the necessities, but that was it. I was used to having a house with all the creature comforts I could imagine, not only that, but I spent more time in Malfoy Manor than at my own home, so I guess I was really used to lavish, beautiful places. I'd been here twice before (briefly) and I'd noticed how drab it was then, but now that I was practically to be living here . . . It did seem a bit depressing. Not that I really cared or anything. I hadn't had any decorations on my wall in my old house, so I didn't need it or anything, it's just what I was used to.

I was actually more worried about Gabriel. He was a blunt kid, and for a moment I was afraid he was going to say something, but then I saw his eyes widen and his mouth open slightly, "You have a big house," he said in slight awe.

My view of a big house was a manor, so maybe I was a bit confused as to why Gabriel would say that. I thought hard about Gabriel's previous house, remembering the address, knowing that there had to be some memory of is house that I'd protracted from his mother, but the only clear one I could remember was on his birthday, and they'd been sitting at a table, so I didn't really get a good view of it.

Thinking on it, though, it couldn't have been too great of a house, considering his mother had gotten pregnant at sixteen, her parents had disowned her (she hadn't told them about the rape, and I don't think she really understood it herself since she was a muggle and wouldn't recognize Amortentia) and so I don't think she would've had enough money to buy a house. She'd probably lived in a cheap flat.

"I will show you your room," Severus said, leading Gabriel through the hall. I followed, looking around although there really wasn't much to look at. At the end of the hall, there were two doors--one on the left and one on the right. Severus opened the door to the right and there was a small bed on a black frame. Severus had already hung shirts up in the closet (there wasn't a door separating the closet from the room) and there was a dresser in it as well. There were shelves with toy cars on them, toy cars not out of the packaging pinned to the walls, and posters of cars everywhere. There was a small train set on top of a little table in the corner, and a small rug that looked like an aerial view of the city, probably used as a map for toy cars. The bed frame was black, but the comforter was obviously homemade. It looked like a patchwork quilt made out of jeans, and it looked a bit lopsided and worn. The pillowcase looked homemade as well, and had a large iron-on picture of a guy who looked strangely familiar to me, but being as it was on a pillow and the lighting in the room was dim, I couldn't place the actor's name. I was actually surprised it didn't' have a picture of a car on it.

All the cars in the room were old cars, like from the sixties and fifties. I couldn't have named any of the models, but I thought they looked pretty cool, I guess. Being a witch, I didn't really care too much for cars.

"I tried to make it look like your previous room," Severus said calmly while Gabriel walked in, looking around the room with the expression of awe on his face. "Although you are, technically, under my care and I am your . . . guardian, your last name is still Hutchins."

"Okay," he said, going over to the train set and pressing a button that made it start going around the track, a wide smile on his face. "I have a big room, now. I think Mummy would've liked it a lot."

I cleared my throat and looked away form Gabriel, feeling extremely awkward and guilty. Although I had not killed Gabriel's mother, I had been the one to torture her, the one to promise her she would see her son again . . .

He turned to me and held the side of my face, staring deeply into my eyes. It looked like he was trying to convey something without speaking, and so I opened my mind, staring right back.

Quickly, Severus showed me memories of him walking through Gabriel's old home. I was right--they did live in a cheap flat--and not in a very good neighbourhood, either. No wonder his mother had been so blunt with him about drugs and sex .The glimpses I saw of the people who lived near them, I would've be blunt with him too. He showed me memories of people putting needles into their arms, which I didn't really understand but they looked really sick so I assumed it was a drug of some kind, and empty beer bottles on the ground. Their home wasn't in great shape, either. There was a kitchen and a living room, but they were the same room, only separated by a counter with barstool in front of it. The kitchen was narrow, just thick enough to have room for cooking ,and smaller than most bathrooms were, and the living room was probably a bit larger than the master washroom in my old house. There was one room, and it was obviously Gabriel's. His mother obviously slept on the couch, though, because there was a pillow and a blanket on the couch in the living room. The washroom was so small, I felt claustrophobic just looking at it in Severus' memory. The was room for a toilet and a sink, and a small shower. Not a bath, a shower. The lace was dingy and had buckets all around for water to drip into, but I could tell she'd tried brightening it up with flowers and figurines and candles.

Even though the memories he'd shown me had been brief, I felt like I'd gathered enough information to figure what his life must have been like. Some of the memories I'd seen of his mother's made sense, like when she'd been holding a baby Gabriel to her chest in the shower, and she'd been crying when Gabriel was screaming, and I remembered wondering why she'd decided to take a shower instead of a bath. With a sickening jolt, I remembered a memory of her walking in on a toddler Gabriel holding a syringe, and I hadn't really understood why she screamed and tore it out of his hands and punched the babysitter in the face. I did now, though. It was obviously a drug of some kind.

When the memories ended, I felt sick to my stomach, and my eyes were wet. Severus brushed my hair away from my face, and he nodded so slightly I almost didn't see it. "Perhaps this was meant to happen," he whispered, brushing away the tear from underneath my eye.

I felt sick. How could anyone see those things? How could Gabriel be so trusting after living that life? Or did he not realize just how horrible of a life that had to have been? Or maybe he only trusted us because we had saved him. Maybe under normal circumstances . . . I couldn't believe that I'd just seen that through Severus' eyes.

"I have to poop," Gabriel said, turning off the train and turning towards us expectantly.

"But you just went pee at Sirius's house, why didn't you poop then?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, I didn't know I had to go poop then. Where's the loo?"

Severus led him out of the room and down the hall. The washroom was the first door in the hallway. Gabriel went inside, and then Severus held my hand, leading me to the door across from Gabriel's. He opened it, and I saw a mattress big enough for two people, but there was only one pillow on it. There was an old, worn-looking wardrobe against the wall that I assumed was his.

But then I saw an elegant ebony wardrobe on the opposite side, one that I thought looked a bit too feminine for Severus. Severus let go of my hand and walked to it, and he opened it, and he pulled out a large box from inside it, then walked over to me. It was wrapped in emerald wrapping paper with a silver bow around it, and a card tied to the bow, with the Malfoy crest on it.

"What . . . ?" I managed, confused while I took it from Severus. The box was so big I had to wrap my arms around it, and I still couldn't interlock my fingers on the other side, and I couldn't see over the top of it. Why would I be getting a present from Lucius and Narcissa? I knew it wasn't from Draco because he never wrapped his gifts to me--he always said it was pointless, considering I would just unwrap it anyway. He said it was like folding robes--he didn't see the point of it, considering he was going to unfold them to hang them in his wardrobe. Unnecessary work. Or something like that.

"I suppose it's a . . . gift to commemorate you moving in with me. The wardrobe is from them as well. I couldn't hide that from the Dark Lord, and he, in turn, told Lucius. He was ordered not to tell Draco, in fear he would tell Pansy and she would, In turn, tell her group of gossip-hens, and I would lose my position at Hogwarts and, therefore, my usefulness to the Dark Lord. We have their blessing," he explained awkwardly, his arms behind his back.

I put the box on the bed and quickly read through the card--it was in Narcissa's handwriting, her explaining how proud she was of me to take the next step into adulthood by moving in with my boyfriend, and that the Dark Lord couldn't be more ecstatic at our love for each other, and that though she had been surprised, she was happy with my choice, and that Severus was a lucky man.

As odd as this may sound, but it actually brought a smile to my face, how much she gushed over me in the card. Her handwriting was small and took up both sides of the card, so she even had room to reminisce about how once she was having a bad day and she was crying in her bed and I'd been over (her and Draco got into an argument, and Narcissa was a bit emotional when it came to Draco) and I'd crawled into bed with her and talked with her until she fell asleep, and how she had always wanted me as part of her family. She was so sickeningly motherly in it. I actually saw a tear smudge next to her signature. Lucius had scrawled a little bit, too, saying that he was also proud of me at my mature step, but it was brief. They both signed it. Maybe I shouldn't have been smiling at what they wrote to me, maybe I should have been sickened by these Death Eaters acting all parental towards me, but . . . Well, I loved it.

I opened the present, still smiling, and inside, I found two lush pillows, and a black comforter (they probably bought black thinking Severus and I would be sharing it) that was thick and silky, not to mention the warm, perfect sheets that followed. I realized with a jolt that they had bought me the same bed stuff they bought Draco. I had always talked about how much I loved his bed and how comfortable it was. Then, of course, because it was from Lucius and Narcissa (who were still hopelessly in love with each other and romantic and couldn't keep it in their pants) a silky black lingerie nightshirt that left little to the imagination, and a bottle of perfectly aged Merlot.

I felt my cheeks burn an I knew I was blushing. I was holding a bottle of Merlot and black lingerie next to Severus. I cleared my throat and looked away from him. There was much I could have said to him. I could have said something romantic or funny and eloquent. Instead, what came out of my mouth was; "So the Dark Lord approves then?"

"He actually encouraged it."

I nodded, feeling the temperature in the room skyrocket, and my throat tighten up. Sex. Somehow, the topic of sex had been brought up, or at least I felt it had, and it was extremely uncomfortable. I was blushing and my stomach squirmed a little at the thought of having sex. Not because Severus disgusted me, I don't' know why, but I just feel really nervous and uncomfortable and sick thinking about it. Hell, I couldn't even think about giving Draco a hand job without getting sick and uncomfortable.

Severus sat on the bed next to me, the added weight of him making the mattress lower slightly. I was staring in the opposite direction, finding it hard to breath, my cheeks a bright red. We were living together. I don't know why it hit me as hard as it did just then, but we were living together. I'd known that before, of course, but for some reason, I hadn't really understood the whole sex thing or the implications until just then.

I felt his hand on mine and I slowly turned to look at him. He squeezed my hand in a comforting way, then ran his thumb over my knuckles. "Danielle . . . I promised you that we would not . . . consummate until we were _both_ ready. Living together does not imply that we will be having sex. If you are not ready--and judging by the fact you cannot even look at me while talking about this without blushing and clearing your throat, you are not--then it won't happen."

I nodded, feeling extremely relieved. "Okay. I just . . . I want to, you know, have sex, eventually, but I just . . . How do I know when I'm ready?"

He thought for a moment, continuing to hold my hand, stroking my knuckles with his thumb. He was staring at me still, eyes intense. Then he let out a small sigh. "You feel it, somehow. I suppose you just . . . know."

I felt a small twinge in my chest area, and a small prickling on the back of my neck. "Are you ready?" I asked quietly.

He was quiet for a moment. Then, he nodded slowly. "Yes," he answered quietly. I felt a surge of guilt. He must have realized I felt guilty, because he suddenly looked concerned. "But I would never push. You make the decision by yourself, understand? Don't let my willingness, or readiness, push you. I would not be able to, ah . . . forgive myself if you weren't ready." I nodded slowly, and he brushed my hair away from my face, black eyes staring into mine. "But when you are ready . . . so am I."

I smiled at him, feeling much better. Jasmine had told me she'd felt pressured into sex by her boyfriend, and that she'd given her virginity to him, and then she regretted it. I was so glad to have a boyfriend who understood.

* * *

I decided to sleep on the couch. I insisted. Severus offered, but I told him I just felt too weird sleeping in his bed, and he let me have the couch. I gave him the extra pillow of course. I think that's what Lucius and Narcissa wanted me to do with it anyway. Honestly, these pillows were perfection, as were the comforters and sheets. Who would need two? 

I had a hard time falling asleep, though, Not because the couch was uncomfortable (as far as couches go, it was great) but because I wasn't used to sleeping in Spinner's End. I had never spent the night in someone else's house before, with the exception of Draco, and I'd been spending the night with him for years. I don't even remember the first time I spent the night at his house. I don't know why spending the night in someone else's house would affect me so much, but it did.

I probably lied there for hours, closing my eyes, trying to fall asleep, but I couldn't. I would have masturbated, but for some reason, that felt disrespectful to do on Severus' couch. I would have watched TV until then, but then I worried about waking him or Gabriel up. I would have read one of the books he had lining his walls, but that wouldn't make me tired, only more awake. Besides, I didn't know if Severus would want me searching through his stuff.

After a long while, though, I found myself drifting of into sleep, strange half-formed thoughts traipsing through my mind. Just as I started dreaming about that actor on Gabriel's pillow shoving Voldemort out of a window in slow motion, bombs sparks flying around them, getting an odd feeling of déjà vu, I heard a ear-splitting scream.

I awoke suddenly, the image of Voldemort in front of me, eyes wide and mouth an O, falling slowly, me laughing tiredly at the image (I couldn't stop looking at where his nose should be) a little confused as to whether or not the scream was real, I heard the small pattering of feet from far away and a door burst open. I stood up and followed the noise, figuring that Gabriel must have had a nightmare.

Severus' bedroom door was wide open and the light was on. Severus was sitting up, the plush pillow on the floor, his older pillow underneath his head, his hair sticking up everywhere, and bags underneath his eyes. He didn't have a shirt on, and the blanket barely covered what needed to be covered, so that I saw the V his hip bones made. Severus slept naked, apparently.

"What?" he grumbled a bit rudely while he began to rub his eyes. I don't think he saw me.

"I had a nightmare," Gabriel answered, standing near the foot of his bed, wearing blue pyjamas that had pictures of--what else?--little cars all over it. His back was facing me, and he was clutching his pillow to his chest.

"And?" he continued, pulling his hands away from his face. His black eyes were barely opened and unfocused.

"Can I sleep with you?" he asked timidly. Severus looked like he was going to die of a heart attack. He looked at Gabriel, as if him requesting that was the oddest thing he'd ever heard. I almost laughed. Gabriel stood there for a second. "I mean, if you and Dani don't mind sharing the bed with me, I guess. Where is she, anyway?"

"I'm right here," I said, stepping forward.

Gabriel turned around. "You two don't' sleep in the same bed? I thought . . . My grandma and grandpa slept in the same bed, well, until grandpa died and grandma got Old Timer's. They didn't like me very much. And my mummy slept in the same bed as some of her boyfriends. I think they had sex sometimes, too."

"Er . . . Well, no, we don't sleep together," I answered awkwardly, unable to look away from Severus for too long.

"I'm scared, though," Gabriel said, frowning at me.

Severus let out a sigh. "Yes, you may sleep with me. Turn around." Gabriel nodded and turned around, and so did I. I faced his open door, rocking on my heels, listening to him open his wardrobe and search through the drawers inside for a moment, the scuffling of him dragging his feet along the floor tiredly. "All right, I'm dressed."

We turned around, and I saw Severus wearing his long, grey nightshirt, and I much preferred seeing him shirtless again. His chest wasn't made of muscles. He wasn't a god of lean perfect. But he had really great arms, and his pale skin was taut over his muscles. He was lean. His body was horrible to look at. Better than I imagined it, but not as good as Draco's. Not that it mattered, really. But what I really liked was his arms. I smiled just thinking about them. But now he was wearing his old grey nightshirt, and I was wearing my school robes still, considering I hadn't brought anything with me, and I figured I would have to go get my belongings out of my vault soon.

Severus bent down and picked up the plush pillow, handing it to me a bit roughly. "I hated it," he grumbled on his way to the door. I looked down at the pillow, then at him shutting the door, and realized that I was being offered to sleep in his bed with him, along with Gabriel. I felt a little strange about that, but I figured it would be more comfortable than trying to sleep on his couch. I had slept in the same bed as a boy before, and Severus and I had napped together once in my bed (after Mum died) and so I wasn't too uncomfortable with the notion.

Gabriel was already under the blankets with his head on his pillow, his hands resting behind his back. I got into bed beside him, so that I was on the opposite side of Severus' pillow and that Gabriel was in between us, and glanced at Severus. He was standing with his hand on the light switch, as if waiting for me to get comfortable, and then he switched off the light, the moonlight barely shining in through the window, so that all I could see was black and a slightly darker version of black in the shape of Severus walking towards the bed.

He covered up and I felt him tug on the covers a little, and everything remained quiet for about ten seconds.

"Bellatrix was chasing me with knife, in my dream, and then there was a lot of fire, and Freddy Krueger was there, but he had Voldemort's head," Gabriel said loudly.

"Freddy Krueger?" I inquired, the name vaguely familiar.

"He has knives for fingers and he kills people in their dreams. It's sad. And then Doctor Who crashed into the boiler room with a spaceship, and then a hundred Bellatrixes came running out, and Voldemort had his claws, and he stabbed me to death."

"Wow, that's--that's really scary, Gabriel," I muttered frowning at the images he was painting for me.

I heard Gabriel on his side, and since my eyes were adjusting to the light a little, I could tell he was facing me. I turned on my side to, leaning closer so I could hear his whispers. "When you killed your mum, was it sad? Even though she was evil?"

I nodded slowly. "Yes, it was very sad. Even if she was evil."

"Was Voldemort mad when you killed her? Was she a bad guy Death Eater person, or just a normal bad guy?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. How could I explain this to a seven-year-old? Was seven really very young? "Er, well, no, he wasn't mad at me. She was a Death Eater, though."

"Why was Voldemort not mad? Doesn't he care when his friends die?"

"Well, they're not friends, Gabriel, more like . . . People he doesn't hate. It's like . . . He has a bunch of toy cars, right? And he likes some of these cars more than others."

"Like a '67 red mustang that is awesome and cool and a stupid ugly Citroen? I have both of them," he said slowly, the moonlight making it impossible for me to see his facial expression, but I could his face glow a little in the light.

I blinked my eyes. "Sure . . . Well, you know how you like some more than others? Well, that's what he's like. But if you lose one of your toy cars, you don't get as sad as you would for a human, right?" He nodded a bit and I smiled. "Well, that's what it's like for him. If he lost some of his friends, he would be upset--like if you lost your mustang toy--but with others, he wouldn't really care, like your Citroen. My mother was a Citroen, to him anyway. I cried, but I had to kill her."

"Did he see you do it?"

I was quiet for a moment. I wondered how much I should tell him, but he had seemed rather understanding do far, so I figured I could.

"I'm trying to sleep," Severus murmured angrily, preventing me from saying anything.

After that, we stayed quietly, although Gabriel hummed quietly and played with my hair for a few minutes until he fell asleep. Surprisingly enough, I fell asleep not much longer after that, feeling completely comfortable where I was.

* * *

I awoke on my side, my arms wrapped around Severus, my leg bent and looped around his leg. He was facing me, his arms wrapped around me as well, the blankets pushed down past our waists, and Severus hair in my mouth (sounds gross, but I thought it was kinda funny) and his hand up in my hair. I blinked sluggishly, feeling warm and perfect in this embrace, feeling calm while I felt Severus' warm, gentle breath on my face. His mouth was barely open, but I think he was breathing through his nose. I felt Gabriel on my back, his arms wrapped around my stomach and on small leg draped over my waist, his knee pressing into my back slightly. I have no idea how Gabriel and I switched positions in our sleep, it really didn't make much sense, but I didn't mind it, and I smiled, realizing that Severus and I were sharing a pillow. 

I leaned forward and kissed Severus gently on the lips, trying hard not to wake him up. When I pulled away I saw the corner of his mouth lift slightly, and his eyes open slightly. "You two sleep far too much," he whispered quietly, the low rumble of his voice vibrating the pillow and I smiled at him.

"How long have you been up, then?"

"Five minutes, perhaps," he whispered back.

"Oh, and five minutes more than you is too much?"

"On a weekend? Yes."

I smiled at him against, scooting a little bit closer. "How did I end up here?" I asked quietly, feeling Gabriel's hot breath on my back.

"I have no idea. It doesn't make much logical sense, if you ask me." I chuckled a little bit. I think Gabriel was a wild sleeper. I had small, vague memories of him kicking me and moving around my body and clutching me. Not to mention the fact the blankets were pushed down past our waists, and Gabriel was uncovered completely. "You need to brush your teeth, however," he added wit ha raised eyebrow.

I chuckled and moved to sit up. Gabriel moaned and rolled underneath me, so that I lost my balance and had to put my hands on either side of his cute, round head so I didn't drop on him. His mouth was wide opened, and his head wasn't even on the pillow. I was looking down at the actor's face, who was suddenly staring up at me. "Whoa, Bruce Willis," I muttered shocked at the sudden appearance of his face in front of mine. I remembered his name suddenly, too, probably because I was half-asleep. I used to watch the reruns of this TV show he was on called _Moonlighting_. It was an American telly show, but it was all right.

"Who?" Severus asked.

I gestured at the pillow case. I recognized the picture of Bruce Willis as an iron on I think his mother made somehow. I think it was from an episode of _Moonlighting_, but I couldn't be sure. He had a big head, though.

I got up and went towards the door, glancing behind me. Gabriel rolled over and clutched onto Severus, who looked displeased with the situation.

I chuckled all the way to the washroom, popping my back and smiling tiredly. When I walked into the washroom, I looked around for an extra toothbrush near the sink, but there was only one, and I don't' think Severus would appreciate me using his toothbrush to brush my teeth, that would be pretty gross anyway, so I opened up the mirror, hoping to find extras. Thankfully, there were. I think Severus bought a few just for Gabriel, because he bought several kid-looking ones, all made of different colours, and he had several different flavoured toothpastes.

"I panicked," I heard him say form my side. I jumped slightly and turned to look at him. He was leaning against the doorframe, his tired eyes focusing on the toothbrushes and toothpastes in the mirror. "His toothbrush at his home looked . . . old."

"Old?" I repeated slowly.

He shrugged slightly, then walked into the bathroom. "The bristles were . . . awkward looking. I don't really know what type of toothpaste he would like, either. I used Opana when I was his age. I doubt he would like the taste of that." He snarled at the memory, then reached forward and pulled out a pink toothbrush. I raised my eyebrow at it. "It was this or brown," he explained quietly.

I looked at it, then shrugged. It was just a toothbrush, so I didn't really care. I looked up to see what he was grabbing, and I saw something that caught my eyes. "What's that?" I asked, pointing at it.

"Old Spice," he answered, giving me a strange look.

I looked at it again, and realized what scent his cologne was and I smiled. That was the devastatingly sexy smell that came from him. Old Spice.

I smiled warmly at him and he just seemed confused.

* * *

Sunday morning I woke up, my head draped on Severus' chest and his arm around me, Gabriel lying on my back ,arms around my neck like I'd been giving him a piggy-back ride in my sleep. Each night, Gabriel had gone to bed in his room and I'd went to the couch, but each night, we found ourselves tangled up in some odd embrace. This time, I managed to stay awake long enough to find out just how crazy of a sleep Gabriel was. Severus and I laughed about it for at least three minutes when we saw it. 

Gabriel would fall asleep and be completely still for about ten minutes, then for about ten seconds he would kick around and thrash and move, falling back asleep in awkward positions that could not be comfortable. He was as bad a body-hugger as Draco. He certainly did have some psychotic dreams, though, and I had to wonder if it was because of the stress, or if he always had strange dreams like that. Well ,sure, we all had crazy dreams, me involving random monkeys or whatever, but his were extremely detailed and bizarre. Far more so than any I'd ever had.

The weekend, thus far, had been wonderful. Sure, parts of it were uncomfortable, like when Gabriel had walked in on me and Severus snogging on the couch when he was finished playing with his cars. Perhaps someone less of a prude than me wouldn't have been embarrassed, since he wasn't even putting his hand on my boob, but I was embarrassed anyway. Severus seemed nonchalant about it thought. Or sometimes, just always being around Severus. We didn't spend much time together, as much as we could, but not a lot. We'd only been going out for a few months, after all. It was strange. I felt like if we weren't in the same room together it was like I was avoiding him and I didn't want him to think I was ditching him, but at the same time I didn't want to crowd him. After awhile I just had to tell myself this was a normal sleepover and act like I did when I was at Draco's house. This was where I lived now, after all. But everything was . . . Fine. It was normal, like I imagine a normal life should be. Sort of like that mock-marriage I had with Draco back when he helped me move out of my house, only this seemed more real, and it made me smile thinking on it. We didn't have to constantly talk to each other, either. It was like we could just be around each other and not say anything at all, and still be fine.

I thought about how I'd woke up for awhile while I sat on the couch. I'd already ate my breakfast, and Severus was reading a book at the table, brows furrowed in concentration, while Gabriel sat on the couch beside me, hugging his pillow to his chest. I don't' know why, but the three of us waking up like that felt like it should have been uncomfortable, but it wasn't. It was strange to me that I actually looked forward to it. It was also strange to me how aching endearing Severus look when he was tired and haggard, even though he was obviously not very attractive. For some reason, I even liked the fact he was a bit of a dick when we woke him up in the middle of sleeping, and the fact he was an extremely light sleeper. The smallest noise woke him up. For some reason, it was all so damn cute. I don't know why, though.

Gabriel was watching a cartoon and snuggling his pillow. "Er . . . So, Bruce Willis, huh? Why him?" I asked finally.

It had been bothering me for some weird reason. I hadn't really talked to many muggles, but when I was at the store or had a chance to, we talked, and I talked about movies. To be honest, that and books were really all I knew about the muggle world. I once tried to talk to someone about the book _Silence of the Lambs_ and she went off about how good of a movie it was, and that it was so much better than _Manhunter. _I asked her what the hell she were talking about, and she explained the movie, and I told her that I hadn't seen it, but that I'd read _Red Dragon_ and it sounded extremely similar. She said she didn't know that there had been books, but that she loved Anthony Hopkins. After that, I stopped talking about books, and started talking about telly shows and movies. When I asked about favourite actors and such, I usually got people like Colin Firth or Kenneth Branagh or Emma Thompson. I rarely got American actors. Once I got Jack Nicholson, though, and Johnny Depp, because he was amazing in Edward Scissorhands. I doubt he'll really go anywhere, though, he sort of dropped off the face of the earth.

Mostly, though, I wondered why his mother would put an iron on of an American actor when obviously her experience in America obviously hadn't been that great. She'd been there for a several months, and most of it was her poking and being sick and being pregnant. Not only that, but family drama. Her parents had practically disowned her, and made her life a living hell, and the rest of the vacation was tarnished because of the rape. Perhaps it was because I hung around prejudiced idiots who blamed mudbloods and muggles for everything, but it just seemed to me that she would have a hatred for anything American.

Gabriel stared down at his pillowcase, and then he smiled at me. "Oh, my mum loves him. She says if she could marry any actor, she would marry him, even though he's married already. She used to joke around and say he was my dad and that she was really Demi Moore in disguise, but I didn't really think it was funny because I don't want Demi Moore as my mother. I like my mother just as she is." He nodded once.

"So . . . Your mum liked him?"

"Yeah! Because he's awesome like that. He blows things up in his movies sometimes. We own a lot of his movies. She likes this gross love story where he gets drunk with this girl but I think it's stupid and all lovey-dovey and kissing and stuff. But she has this other movie, called _Pulp Fiction_ and it's really cool, 'cause he has a watch that was in his father's bum."

"What?" Severus said from the table suddenly, looking over at us with an extremely odd look on his face.

"It's a movie," I said and he just shook his head and rolled his eyes, then returned to the book he was reading. I turned back to Gabriel. I hadn't seen many movies with Bruce Willis in it, just the old _Moonlighting_ episodes. I loved movies, though, because it was like my tie to the muggle world, so maybe I would have to watch more. "I've actually seen that one. Tim Roth was in it . . . but only for about ten seconds." I really liked Tim Roth in _Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead_ and so I'd watched _Pulp Fiction_ hoping he was good in it, but he wasn't in it very much. The movie was good though.

"You should watch _Reservoir Dogs,"_ Gabriel said. "He's in that a lot."

"You watch movies a lot," I pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

He looked at me with a quizzical eyebrow raised. "I didn't have anybody to play with."

I realized that, having glimpsed into his neighbourhood through Severus, I probably wouldn't have wanted my kid out of the house much either. "Oh . . . right . . ." I said, smiling at him, feeling a pang of pity for Gabriel, who apparently didn't realize how screwed up his life was. "So, er, why did your mum like him so much, you think?"

"I don't know. I guess she went to America for a couple of months when she was pregnant with me or something. She said it was a really crappy vacation, though, and she hated it, but that the only good thing that happened was when she went and saw a movie and he was in it. I guess it was during the summer and her mummy was mad and they got in a fight and her and her dad went to a movie to talk about me when I was in her tummy, and he was in the movie. We own the movie. It's great. He blows people up in that movie. Mummy says it was the last time she had a good time with her dad. So she says she likes him 'cause of that. I just like him 'cause that movie is awesome. But she made me this pillow case with an iron and stuff. Sometimes I wish he was my real dad, though. I never had a dad. So I wanted him to be mine, 'cause my mummy loved him a lot."

As odd as this might sound, but I really felt like I could understand where he was coming from. I used to watch movies and telly shows and want certain characters and actors to be my father, since I didn't have one either. I brushed Gabriel's hair away from his forehead.

I glanced back at Severus, and he was staring at us with a faraway look on his face, one that looked almost wistful. I had Gabriel against my chest and I was stroking his hair while he held that pillow against his own chest. We looked at each other and he smiled briefly, before he shut the book and stood up form the table. "I have a VCR," he stated, raising an eyebrow.

"You do?" I asked, a little surprised.

"It's his," Severus explained, gesturing towards Gabriel. "So is the television."

"Oh," I said. No wonder I didn't remember the television the last two times I'd been here, even if they had been brief.

"Do you want to watch that movie, Gabriel?" Severus asked.

"Yes!" he exclaimed, then bounded off towards his room, where Severus had put all of his things, including the movies he owned.

Severus sat beside me with a small sigh. "It obviously means very much to him," he said with his brows furrowed. "My father thought television was satanic, so we didn't watch much of it. He didn't like much of anything, really." He snarled at the thought of his father. I hadn't heard much about him, but I gathered he wasn't a very likeable guy. He didn't show up to his mother's funeral, after all.

"So, er, does your father know that you're using him for the back story with Gabriel at all? I mean, he's not upset that you told them that he cheated on your mum, is he?" I asked quietly.

"Yes, I had to tell him, in case he was asked for some unforeseen reason."

"Was he angry?"

"Yes, but I don't much care," he said bluntly. "He was loyal to my mother, but considering I was taking in a child and saving him--something he deems as God's will--then he accepted the story." He had a slightly mocking tone when he talked about God's will.

I furrowed my brows a bit when a thought struck me. "Where does your father live?"

"A few miles away from here. They gave me the house when I turned seventeen."

I nodded, wondering if I was ever going to meet his dad. Not that I really wanted to, but it seemed like the traditional thing to do, so I wondered if Severus was going to want me to meet him. I wasn't going to ask, though.

Gabriel came out, extremely excited, and put the movie in. He came over and sat with us, and we watched as the commercials began.

* * *

"I've seen that before," I said with a raised eyebrow, suddenly remembering my half-formed dream with Voldemort. "I read the book the movie was based off of, too. _Nothing Lasts Forever_. I actually own it. It was really good, but it was much sadder. He was visiting his daughter instead, and she got pulled out of the window too." 

"Did she die?" Gabriel asked, his eyebrows up in his forehead, looking thoroughly sad.

"Well, yeah, it's a pretty long drop."

"Why would he need to translate German to English when Karl is _obviously_ German?" Severus asked, his brows furrowed in thought.

"So that we would understand what he was saying, duh," Gabriel said as if it were obvious, giving Severus a look that suggested Severus was being stupid.

Severus raised an eyebrow at Gabriel, and they stared at each other for awhile. Both of them had rather impressive glares, but Gabriel looked more cute than threatening, and so he eventually looked away and pursed his lips, sitting up and folding his arms across his chest angrily. "Well, I like the movie anyway, 'cause it's good."

"I never said I disliked movie," Severus pointed out. "I just found it merely odd that he would need to translate German to English. I thought he had more of a British accent than a German one, if you ask me. When he was speaking in that American accent, he kept moving his mouth strangely, and I found it rather distracting. I think I would prefer the book more, however."

"Why? His daughter dies!" Gabriel exclaimed, his eyes wide, tears shimmering in them.

"A good story does not necessarily have to end happily, Gabriel. It's far more interesting when it doesn't end perfectly."

"Well, this movie didn't end perfectly, 'cause his wife divorces him anyway but you don't know that yet, and besides, the bad guy was kinda cool, so it's kinda sad that he died. I just thought the blond guy was scary. He's the _real_ bad guy," Gabriel said with a smart nod.

I furrowed my eyebrows and looked at Gabriel in confusion. "What? How can you say him dying is _sad?_ Just because he's polite and well-dressed doesn't mean he's not evil. He was willing to kill at least thirty hostages just to get away with the money! He was intelligent and refined and all of that, but he was still evil." It surprised me that Gabriel actually liked the villain. He reminded me so much of Voldemort, since Voldemort had that wry, intelligent, polite thing going for him. It made me sick, almost like it was some sort of hypocrisy of evil.

Gabriel looked at me strangely. "He was really smart though, 'cause he had a plan that would probably work in real life. I like him. He's funny. I like to make models, too. I think he has a crush on his wife, though. He was going to kidnap her, not kill her."

I sighed and shook my head. "He was just going to kidnap her because he wanted to be a jerk, Gabriel. Not because he liked her."

"I think you two are looking too deeply in this cliché action movie, if you ask my opinion," Severus said with a raised eyebrow. I thought the movie was actually quite good, but I suppose if one really wanted to say it was cliché . . .

Gabriel jumped out of my lap, his mouth like an O. "Cliché? I think the movie made the clichés! This is a movie about being trapped and having to revert to animal instincts, like in the jungle, and he's in a building like a jungle, and about a normal guy who can kick evil bad guy butt and the whole first part of the movie he's trying to get others to act and he's not being a superhero at first and it's not cliché at all! You missed the entire point of the movie, Severus!" he shouted, as if it were obvious, smacking his hand to his forehead.

Severus looked stunned, and I had to force myself not to laugh.

I had to admit, a seven-year-old telling Severus Snape he missed the symbolic plot behind a movie was absolutely hilarious.

* * *

A/N--Yes, they watched _Die Hard_. Considering I'm basing this off of the books and not the movies, I have no qualms mentioning movies various HP actors have been in. I needed an American film that came out in 1988, and this came to mind. Die Hard came out July 15, 1988 (or thereabouts) and I realized that Gabriel, having lived as a muggle, would really enjoy watching movies. His mother was about five months pregnant, maybe four, when she saw this. They were vacationing in America from Feb. to about Oct. 

My cousin and I are very similar, and we talk all night about our dreams when he spends the night 9we both have very odd, vivid dreams), and we both have this thing for memorizing actors and nit-picking movies, and so yes, it is entirely believable a seven-year-old would know actor names and symbolism. Seven is actually quite old. They aren't little babies anymore, after all.

I never watched Moonlighting (which, I think, ended in '89 or thereabouts) but my mother told me about it, and it sounded like something Dani would watch. I personally think Danielle would like _Reservoir Dogs_ more than _Pulp Fiction_, but anyway . . . thinking on it, I think she would really like _The Departed_ . . . I just think you can sort of tell a person's character by the movies they watch and like, and so I thought this would give you all a perspective into her and Gabriel.

I think Severus would prefer books to movies.

Anyway, the movies mentioend in here I have all seen, except _Moonlighting_, and the kissy lovey dovey movie was actually _Blind Date_.

Thinking back to 1996-97, I remember being upset that Johnny Depp was going nowhere, and my dad and I reminisced about how great he was in a Nightmare on Elm Street, when he got sucked into the bed. Hah hah, ironic, seeing as he is everywhere now. I love Johnny Depp.

Gary Oldman is also in _Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead_, for those of you who are Gary fans. I love it, because it's a funny take on _Hamlet_, but whatever.

I would like to thank IMDb, as well as Bluehaven4220 for the help she gave me in this chap (she knows what I'm talking about) and I want you to know that when the big scene gets here, you will get huge kudos_. "A good story does not necessarily have to end happily, Gabriel. It's far more interesting when it doesn't end perfectly."_ That is a sentence meant as a shout-out to the author of MARYSUE Must Die: A Morality Tale in Bad Writing, which is an educational parody with a plot. Also, huge thanks for Edgar A Poe, because he will soon become my beta. Yay! (Keep the spoilers to yourself, shhhh)

I hope you all had a happy Christmas, and a good New Year. Happy 2008, everybody!


	43. Chapter 46

Chapter 46: Those We Hate

I stifled a yawn in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, rewriting the lines out of the dreaded book Umbridge gave us. Not surprisingly, Umbridge liked me. She always tried to speak to me in the hallways, and I always tried to find some excuse to get out of these conversations. It wasn't that I wanted her to like me, of course not, but really, it sort of just . . . happened. I wish I could have had the bravery Harry had, to get up in her face and yell at her, as I had heard he'd done, but I didn't. So many times I wanted to, but I never did. I guess I was a bit of a coward. What was I good for, if I couldn't even tell the cow off to her face? Killing and torturing, apparently—thankfully, though, I hadn't had to do any of that recently. So maybe I wasn't even good in the Dark Lord's eyes anymore.

Well, I suppose I was good with Gabriel, and Severus was good with Gabriel as well, so it wasn't like I was a truly horrible person, but . . . Well, maybe I was . . .

I shook that thought out of my head. That was definitely not something I needed to dwell on.

Back to Umbridge.

Apparently, Lucius Malfoy had talked about me quite a lot. Ever since I was little, he mentioned me, almost (and I put a stress on almost) as much as his son. Naturally he spoke about Draco more, but I guess I was mentioned a lot as well. I guess when Lucius Malfoy said; "My, my, she's such a wonderful girl, I love her to death, yes, an amazing girl, Umbridge, I love her like a daughter!" then people paid attention to it.

Of course, being as Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater and had a lot of friends who weren't exactly upstanding citizens, the people who really paid attention to what he said and thought it a good thing weren't exactly the people I would want liking me.

Would I ever have decent friends? Besides Severus, of course. Draco wasn't too bad although he was a "bad guy" by definition, and, well, Nott could be pretty funny sometimes . . .

Was it a bad thing that I liked my "evil" friends?

Jasmine was anti-Dark Lord, and quite nice for a Slytherin. She was cunning and determined, yes, but she had a set of morals she refused to break for anyone or anything, and nobody made her do something she didn't want to do. But did I hang out with her? No. Why? That's the problem. I have no idea. It's not because it would blow my cover, even though it would. The truth is, I just don't want to, even though I guess I should. Did that make me a bad person?

As sad as this might sound, I _wanted_ to be friends with Draco and Nott. It's what I wanted. I was past the point of telling myself I didn't really care about them, because I obviously did. I was past the point of wondering why I was a Slytherin, because I knew that I belonged here (especially since I'd been Sorted at eleven, when I was my spoiled, stubborn, scheming little self) and I realized that I had been lying to myself all along. I wasn't any better than the rest of my housemates. I had just wanted to view myself as different from them, and so refused to see the similarities, refused to really acknowledge that I used to like bullying people to show off that I could, that I used to mouth off to my teachers (all right, teacher) and, yes, I had done it for attention. People did not cuss out Professor Snape, everybody knew that, and I knew it too, and I did it anyway. I realized that I was just like everyone else—that we were all equal, and that I chose to be friends with those I was friends with.

Yes, that's right, chose. If it's our choices that make us who we are, and I choose to be friends with those I do, then what does that mean about me?

I would like to think I was a good person, but sometimes I really didn't feel like it. If people who were "bad" liked me, then it obviously couldn't mean anything very good. And Harry Potter—Harry bloody Potter, The Boy Who Lived, the bloody savior of the wizarding world—absolutely hated me. One couldn't get better than him. And he hated me.

And thinking on it, I think I hated him too.

Who was he to judge me? All right, so perhaps he'd seen my Dark Mark, but I seriously doubt he would have really cared too much about me even if he hadn't. I wasn't an idiot. He hated anything Slytherin. Prejudice much? Not to mention that he had this attitude about him, like we all had to bow down before him just because he "killed" the Dark Lord. Yeah, _that_ worked. Did _anybody_ give Lily credit?

Well, maybe most people didn't know about Lily's part. I, of course, did. The Dark Lord tended to make allusions towards it during meetings sometimes, usually with a smirk at Severus or at me, as if expecting us to act upset and weepy. Severus had told me once and only once, and I would never ask for him to retell it again. The Dark Lord didn't offer life to many people who chose to die. And she had chosen to die for her son. So, maybe, people didn't know. Maybe Harry didn't know. Still, though, it's been quite a long time since that night happened, and do people need to lick Potter's boots because of something he really had no control over?

And what did he do, really? Drool at him? Potter—I mean, Harry—Harry was famous for drooling at the Dark Lord and surviving because of his mother.

And, if I really thought about it, Severus was responsible for it in his own way, too. Had he not asked the Dark Lord to spare her...?

Oh, and he was _always_ slipping out of trouble. Always. Every time he did something that would result in either expulsion or _serious_ point-taking, what happened? He was awarded points. I will not soon forget the end of my second year, when Slytherin had won the house cup (we'd won the previous year, too) and we had all the decorations up, and we were celebrating, and Dumbledore decided that, no, change the bleeding record, Gryffindor won the House Cup, awarding points he could have awarded at any time before then. It wasn't like Harry had stumbled out seconds after retrieving the Philosopher's Stone into the Great Hall it had to be awarded right after, was it?

And what did the noble Gryffindor do? Well, yeah, when we're favoured, we do tend to milk it for what's it's worth. I will admit I'd showed up late to a few of my classes with Umbridge, knowing that she wouldn't care. I did forget an assignment here and there. Even with some of my Professors who I knew somewhat liked me, I'd used it every now and then. We all tend to milk it somewhat. I wasn't about to forget Draco, was I? Still, though, not even Draco got the preferential treatment Harry got. Did Severus allow him on the Quidditch team his first year? No. And if we milked our preferential treatment, then Harry slaughtered the damn milk cow.

He was constantly getting into trouble. Constantly. This wasn't a "Well, I really had to save the Stone from a purple turban wearing Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who was formerly the Muggle Studies professor, so, well, no harm done" type of thing. No, he was crashing cars into trees, sneaking into said trees and off Hogwarts grounds, and out after curfew, and stealing ingredients from Severus (yes, he did know about that) and not putting forth effort to practice Occlumency, and nobody even batted an eyelid. But, oh, when Severus adds a few points to Slytherin that, granted, he probably didn't have to, or when he conveniently forgets to take them, it's absolutely horrible. But not for Harry Potter—it's not horrible at all.

He was arrogant. He was judgmental and prejudiced. And I was his damn cousin, and every time he walked by me, he glared. He looked absolutely disgusted with me. People raged on about how unfair it was that Umbridge gave him a life ban from Quidditch because he attacked Draco. Which, all right, so maybe a _life_ ban was excessive. Actually, it was. Umbridge was a bitch. But did anybody even mention how _both_ the twins were banned for what _one_ of them did? Absolutely not.

So perhaps my sudden hatred of him came from me wanting to be friends with him, and he obviously didn't want to be. It wasn't that he couldn't, it was that he wouldn't—although, for obvious reasons, he couldn't either. It may have had something to do with the Dark Mark on my arm, yeah, but I seriously doubt he would have been friends with me even if he hadn't seen it. He hated Slytherins. I would not soon forget the first time we spoke, and I told him I was in Slytherin, and he looked disgusted. And I had felt guilty over being Sorted there.

I heard a small, girlish clearing of the throat/giggle beside me, and I snapped out of my thoughts and glanced up at the blonde, toadish woman beside me. "Is everything all right, Miss Kensith?" she asked in that girly voice of hers.

I smiled warmly at her, although I still felt a little disoriented from being torn out of my thoughts. "Yes, of course. Why?"

She gestured down at my parchment, which I was writing lines on, as if this were some type of detention. I heard Umbridge made students write lines for detention, and I think someone was complaining about it the other day. Good Lord. I'd complain too. We spend all day writing lines, and that's what she does for detention too. Did this woman know anything about teaching? Obviously not, telling Severus that he was being too advanced... Most would be proud that the students he taught knew more than they would, had someone else taught them...

I looked down at what I was writing, and saw that ink smudged much of my parchment. I had put my quill down to think, apparently, and the quill had rolled down the desk, marking it with ink all the way down. Ink splashed up on my fingers and palm, and I had placed that also on my parchment, so that my fingerprints were on it. It was obvious that I hadn't been paying much attention to my task, as was apparent by the large black dot spreading out and bleeding through the parchment, where the quill had stopped rolling.

"Oh," I muttered, picking up the quill and dipping it in the inkwell, my fingers feeling strangely crisp, the ink having dried on it.

"I wondered if it was, perhaps, because your mind was elsewhere? You seem to be a bit distant lately."

Distant? Well, perhaps it was because the Dark Lord kept holding meetings. He was very angry that we hadn't managed to get a hold of the Prophecy as of yet. Yesterday's meeting had been less than pleasant—well, less so than normal. Which was actually saying something. It wasn't like the Dark Lord held parties, was it? Severus was asked to... get rid of a problem in the form of a muggle girl younger than I was. Severus, of course, obliged. What other choice did he have? Some weird looking guy who the Dark Lord called Wormtail who Severus seemed to hate more than the other Death Eaters pulled in the girl, and Severus killed her in front of everyone.

I had never seen him kill anyone. I watched for any sign of reluctance, staring at his face. He didn't hesitate, and when he was finished, he calmly stood back where he was supposed to, and left the girl lying there, acting as if what he'd done was an absolutely normal thing for him to do. We didn't talk to each other after that—not even when he Apparated me back to Hogsmeade and walked me to the common room.

Of course, that wasn't all that happened at the meeting. Apparently the Dark Lord was very upset at the fact no one had been able to come up with a very workable plan to get the Prophecy. It wasn't as though he could get it without being noticed, nor was it like Harry could just prance in there either. I don't know what he expected us to do, really. So, as some sort of incentive to work faster, he performed the Cruciatus on us all.

I had thought that there could be nothing worse than being tortured in front of everybody, screaming like a little girl, crying, thrashing, wailing in obvious pain. I had not thought there could be torture worse than that. And then he did it to Severus. Some of the Death Eaters watching seemed amused to see the composed Severus Snape thrash and scream on the floor. The Dark Lord seemed highly amused at listening to the terrible scream; a scream that I knew would plague my thoughts forever. Whatever it was, it was not funny, watching a grown man thrash and scream like a woman, pain so intense that masculinity had left his thoughts entirely. That was far worse than me being tortured, and I wondered how it must have felt for him to see me do the same.

Then of course, Lucius Malfoy had to step forward and say he would take care of the Prophecy problem. Considering the fact the Dark Lord was a very cautious person, he didn't allow everyone to hear the plan. He let Severus and me (Severus had relayed the Prophecy to him in the first place, and I had figured out how to retrieve it, after all) stay while Lucius and Bellatrix told him that they had it on good authority who Harry loved above all else. After that, Bellatrix said she wouldn't finish telling him the plan until Severus and I were gone, and the Dark Lord made us leave.

So, yeah, maybe I was a little distant. Like she would know about what I was going through. She was telling us all he wasn't back, wasn't she? The Dark Lord held meetings I'd rather not attend, but I had to go. I feared the day the Dark Lord would make me finish the "tests" for that little Shakespeare slip of the tongue (Severus had said I would have to kill someone in front of him, and then kill others with a fellow Death Eater, but nothing had happened as of yet).

Damn good thing I knew Occlumency. Which brought me to another reason I hated Harry. Harry had to learn Occlumency— it was pretty much vital. And he didn't even try. I was putting my life on the line, Severus was putting his life on the line, and Harry just acted like an immature, spoiled little prat and didn't even try to practice. Severus could tell if he practiced or not. He knew he wasn't trying.

"Sorry, er, boy troubles," I lied, smiling briefly at her.

She put a hand on my shoulder and patted it. I felt like either vomiting out of disgust, or cursing her into oblivion out of anger. But I merely smiled at her. If there was one good thing I'd learned from ignoring Draco the two weeks we weren't friends, it was how to finally, truly hide my emotions. I had wanted Draco to see how badly I still wanted him as a friend, and I managed to act cold and distant. I simply had to wait for the strange click in the back of my head. There was a click I forced my brain to make. I don't know how I found it, but I did.

"I understand," she said consolingly. I started writing on my parchment again, feeling awkward because her hand was still on my shoulder. "I'll need to see you after class, Miss Kensith," she said in a cheery voice, then waddled away, smiling a thin, almost lipless smile that even looked like the mouth of a toad.

I made an obscene hand gesture at her back. One that involved two fingers, and would have made her quite angry had she seen it.

If I had ever wanted a professor to hate me, it was her. But thinking on it, no professor had really hated me. Sure, there were plenty who didn't really care at all about me, some who I was probably just a face in the class to, and yeah, there were a few that genuinely liked me. The only professors who I had ever really thought hated me were Severus (but I knew now that I was exaggerating) and Professor "Moody," and that was because he was really Barty Crouch Junior, and he had spent years in Azkaban or, actually, underneath an invisibility cloak as Severus told me, and had a deep hatred for Death Eaters who got off with nothing but a wrist slap as well as their children. But no, Umbridge had to have a fondness for me. Depressing, really. And I wouldn't have the guts to tell her jog on, would I?

When it came to pass, eighteen years later, that class ended, I didn't leave, even though I felt like conveniently forgetting and leaving anyway. Instead, though, I walked up to her desk and sat in the chair, placing my bag beside it.

"As you know by now, I'm sure, I am the new Headmistress."

Of course I knew. Who didn't know? She had only put forty-thousand of her Educational Decree Number three-million-and-a-half all over the school, hadn't she? Albus Dumbledore, the only man the Dark Lord ever feared, was gone. Thanks to her.

At least the twins got out of this place. They showed her lifetime ban, didn't they? And we all had a great laugh at the fireworks. Even us Slytherins. God, if only I had bravery (and the ability to make people laugh) like Fred and George Weasley. Jasmine had long nursed a crush on George. Not Fred. George. I don't really know how she knew which was which. She said George had a softer face. I said George had Fred's face. But, alas, she had decided George was too good for her, and was currently dating Cormac McLaggen, who I thought was a total prat of a Gryffindor and I honestly think she was just dating him to make her parents angry. He had pressured her into sex after all, and she hadn't wanted to displease him. Jasmine was a rather pretty girl, and so she had many boyfriends, so I figured it wouldn't be long before she found someone else to dote over. Hopefully not a Gryffindor though, because I think her fondness for the men in that house was starting to really anger some of the more dangerous Slytherins.

"Of course you are," I said with a smile. "I always thought Dumbledore was the worst thing that ever happened to this school." Thank God for Draco. Half the crap that came out of my mouth that I had to say I only knew because he'd said it before.

She nodded a little, but she chose not to comment on what I had said. "Well, I've noticed that you aren't on my Inquisitorial Squad. I've offered several times, but you've never accepted."

It wasn't that it wasn't tempting. Of course it was tempting. It would be nice to have that sort of power. But, really, I didn't have much time for that, what with the spying and all. And Gabriel. Besides, she bugged me.

"Well, you see, I've got... Well, I'm sure you know this, but my mother died last summer," I said, deciding to use that card. She looked somewhat sympathetic. "And, well... I've decided that I need to go home every weekend, so I can't really... Do much, you know. The house needs me. Bills to pay, that sort of thing. I like sleeping in my own bed." It was the story we'd agreed on, because it was unrealistic that other professors and students wouldn't realize I went missing every weekend, or went home after classes often.

"Yes, Professor Snape informed me of that sad business. I already knew about your mother, of course. Dear me, of course I can't expect too much of you! And it is so kind of him to Apparate you whenever he can. Lucius speaks so highly of him. He does of you, as well." She nodded, and I noticed that when she spoke about Lucius, she got an odd gleam in her eye and the smile on her face got a little softer. Ew. She fancied Lucius. Even if he wasn't absolutely in love with his wife, he wouldn't touch Umbridge with a ten-foot pole. He had told me himself he was a bit shallow.

"Yes, well, he is my Head of House, and nowhere in the rules does it say that if I have transportation to and from my house that I can't stay there. Even in the ministry. I checked." And we had, indeed, checked, to make sure there was no possible way for her to take me from Gabriel, or to take Severus either. I will admit, Severus had more obligations than I did, so he wasn't with me much on the weekdays, but on the weekends, everything went smoothly. Dumbledore made sure to have the weekends clear for him. Every now and then, we felt it was prudent for me to stay the night here, as well as Severus, and in those instances, we'd sent Gabriel to stay with "Uncle Sirius" but we couldn't do that every night. He had school to go to, and besides, being locked up like that was no way of life for a child. It was no way of life for anyone... Poor Sirius...

"I realize this, of course, but seeing as I am now Headmistress, and, er... I can't get into the office it seems..." She seemed really frustrated that she couldn't get into the office she was supposed to be in. "I am going to need more help than ever. After the whole fiasco with the fireworks—" I suppressed a grin. "—and the whole Dumbledore's Army situation, I really--"

"What?" I demanded, confused entirely.

She blinked a few times, then smiled. "Oh, yes, we were quite right, Dumbledore was planning an army; there was a list of names. Why do you think I've replaced him, dear?"

The floor disappeared from beneath me, and I searched for the click. I managed to keep my face impassive, blocking my mind habitually although I didn't think it mattered at the moment. She had names of the Order. She was going to give them to the Ministry, and Lucius would see it . . . Of course, they all knew Severus was on it, since he was their "spy" but me… They had no idea about me... I had to go into hiding right away. I remembered Draco muttering something about it, but he made it sound like some sort of club that Harry started, and he was more excited about retelling how he used a Tripping Jinx on Harry than what he was tripping him for.

"I didn't realize... you've got all the names, then?" I asked, trying to sound interested.

"Of course. We had an informant." Oh, God. Did the Dark Lord have an actual spy? "She was supposedly in the army herself. Poor Marietta, her poor face..." I was frantically trying to place a name to the face, but it didn't sound very familiar to me. Not in the Order, anyway. There was a girl in my year named that, and she hung out with the Ravenclaw seeker Cho, but she wasn't in the Order. Or was she? I wasn't really allowed to meet the younger people, because of my position. Even though Umbridge was shaking her head, I got the feeling she really didn't care about whatever happened to her face. "But we had the names, and a list, with the name written right on it, directly, as proof."

"The name of the army?" I inquired politely, already thinking about how fast I could take all of my stuff from Spinner's End (and we had just finished unpacking last week, too) and stuff it into Grimmauld Place. We would have to fake my death, of course.

"Yes. It was called Dumbledore's Army." I blinked a few times. What? No, it was The Order of the Phoenix. Was she stupid? "Harry Potter was leading it, of course. I suppose they didn't have any meetings as of yet, but I think we all know what Dumbledore was training him to do."

Wait... wait, something seemed really familiar... Yes, I'd heard about this, it was some sort of underground Defense class... I overheard Marietta and Cho talking about it, they were Ravenclaws, and when they saw me, they sort of scampered away, and I hadn't paid much attention to it then, just thought that it was something Harry _would_ do... glad that I'd had my own extra lessons with Severus...

"Here's the list of names," she said, handing me a parchment. I glanced over it quickly. Of course, there were no Slytherins. I wondered if Harry had even bothered to ask.

"Oh, well... This proves it then... Of course, none of them can be blamed, if their headmaster gives them an order..." I mumbled awkwardly, suddenly relieved and calm. Hopefully they didn't get in too much trouble. She'd probably just give them all lines or something. I heard that's what she did for detention. Not that bad, just boring. Like her classes.

"You really should become part of my Squad. You can give and take points, and I will make sure not to give you too many responsibilities. I need the extra help. Draco is doing superbly!" She let loose a few small, girlish little bursts of noise. I stared incredulously at her. Did she just _giggle?_

"Well... If it's not too much responsibility, like I said, I do have stuff I've got to do, during the weekends, and after classes. I really can't be taken from that too much."

"Of course not! I'll make sure. I'll try and schedule it around your free periods. You can take and give points, and detentions too. And you can wear these cute little badges I made. Of course, if something really dire turns up, you will have to drop your prior arrangements and come to my aid, or you might be stripped of you duties. Unless, it was really dire, of course. But I doubt anything could be of more dire importance than work for the ministry!" There she was, giggling again.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "What constitutes as dire? Because if I'm not positive I can do this, I really can't accept."

"Oh, oh, nothing short of a rebellion of course!" I sat for a moment. I doubted rebellion was far off at this juncture. Still, if there was a rebellion, I'd just shirk off my duties anyway. What would she do? Give me a detention?

I shrugged. It would be nice to have some power in this school. Taking and giving points sounded pretty cool. Not to mention, the ability to hand out detentions. Lovely. "All right. Sure."

She smiled in a disgustingly sweet way.

I wanted to punch her in the face.

After she gave me the badge or whatever, I would have to have Severus take me home to take care of Gabriel. He had Occlumency with Harry tonight, so he wasn't going to be home until late, and I felt a little let down. This day hadn't really been the best. Everything was just really irritating to me, probably because of the meeting, and I really didn't want to go home to Gabriel in a bad mood. My body still ached because of the Cruciatus, even my breasts ached, and here she was, wasting my time. I guess a little power might cheer me up. I hoped Gabriel was in the mood for a nap, because I was a little groggy, too. I really wished Severus didn't have Occlumency with Harry tonight, too, but that was beside the point.

* * *

BANG!

I jumped up, startled out of my sleep. Gabriel shrieked a little bit, so I know I hadn't imagined the sound, and I know it hadn't been in my dream. It took me a second to realize what had happened.

Severus had slammed the door open. Severus did not stop or slow down or acknowledge our presence. He just continued down the hall, to his room, and I heard him slam his bedroom door shut. Gabriel jumped again.

Gabriel and I glanced at each other. "Did I do something wrong?" he asked quietly.

I shook my head. "No... he seemed fine earlier today, when he dropped me off here. I mean, he was a little upset at having lessons with Harry, but..." Severus did tend to be a little moody after lessons with Harry, but it had never been like this. Severus hadn't even looked at us when he walked by.

"Who's Harry?" Gabriel asked. "You two talk 'bout him sometimes. Is he a jerk?"

I didn't quite know how to answer that, so I just shrugged. "It's someone we know from school." I heard the unmistakable sound of Severus kicking something. I handed Gabriel the remote. "Here, watch the telly," I told him, getting off the couch and brushing off my robes.

Against my better judgment, I walked down the hall, and knocked on the bedroom door a few times, listening to him kick something or knock something over; I couldn't tell. I knocked again, hoping that I wasn't doing something stupid and that he wasn't going to be too angry with me.

He jerked the door open. "Did you want something?" he demanded, none too nicely.

"Er... Is everything okay?" I asked stupidly. I wasn't really sure what else to say.

"What do you think?" he asked with a snarl.

I cleared my throat and looked downward. "All right, fairly stupid question." He just quirked an eyebrow at me. "Did you want to talk about it or something?" He didn't say anything; just looked at me strangely. He looked me over, his dark eyes moving over my body, resting on my eyes for a moment, then on my hair. I recognized the look in his eyes, and it was the one I hated. The one where he wasn't looking at me. This time, though, he had an odd glimmer in his eye, like he was about to cry or something. "What did he do?" I asked. I knew it had been Harry. What else could it have been?

He opened the door and let me in. I shut it behind me, leaning against it while he went over to the bed and sat. He looked absolutely horrible. Slowly, I walked over to him, and watched as he bent over, bowing his head, and held his head in his hands. He looked so defeated.

I sat beside him, and put my hand on his back, not really knowing what else to do. I had only seen Severus upset once before like this, and that was when his mother died. I'd seen him angry, yeah, but this? By the way his back was moving underneath my palm, I could tell his breath was hitching repeatedly, so that it was shaky. I could hear odd choking noises, quiet but there, coming from him. Was he crying?

"He went into the Pensieve," he managed quietly. It was a bit hard to hear him. I rubbed his back slightly, feeling a little uncomfortable. Severus put certain memories in the Pensieve during lessons. He even did it with me. I had been a little curious as to what memories he didn't want me seeing, but not enough to look. I couldn't believe Harry would do that. "Watched his saintly father torment me... and Black..." he muttered darkly.

I rubbed his back more firmly. "I'm sorry..." I mumbled awkwardly.

He moved so quickly I jumped. He grabbed my head and I jerked a little bit out of instinct, and then he stared into my eyes, his own eyes swimming with tears.

And then he showed me. I couldn't believe it. Out of all the memories for Harry to jump into... Severus had told me he'd called her a mudblood. He never explained the situation. I'd seen glimpses of Severus when he was younger in my own lessons, of course, so I was used to him. I'd seen memories of them sleeping in the same bed, of him looking at her sleeping figure wistfully, of random moments in his life, but he had never shown me this before. All I could do was stare in horror as he showed it to me. I'd seen flashes of the younger Sirius teasing him, just brief moments. I'd seen the memory when Sirius had tricked him to see the werewolf. But nothing prepared me for this.

At first, I didn't know why he was showing me him reading beside a bush. Then I watched in horror as they flipped him upside down, his robes past his knees, his thin, knobbly-kneed, pale legs flailing in the air. I wanted to scream for them to stop it, drag them away, hex them, anything; but I couldn't. It was just a memory. I watched helplessly as he choked on the soapsuds, and everyone just sat there and laughed; nobody helped him. James Potter and his idiot cronies laughed—all except Lupin, who wasn't with them, I think he was next to the lake... Why wasn't anyone doing anything? How could they just sit there and laugh? It wasn't funny; it was horrific, disgusting. Even though I could still feel his hands on the side of my head, I was completely absorbed in the memory, disgusted, upset, near tears... I wanted to scream for them to stop it, to leave him alone...

For a glorious and confusing moment, I thought that I had, my voice somehow different. But it was Lily. And then...

I had never heard Severus say mudblood. Ever. And hearing it come from his mouth, I felt...

Well, I don't know what I felt.

And then she called him... Snivellus.

It was over.

Even though he had ended the memory, he still held onto my face, my forehead against his. I realized that his cheeks were glistening, and I could feel hot tears running down my face. He closed his eyes tightly, and he was breathing heavily through his clenched teeth. He hands went up into my hair and started to tug, clenching his fists tightly. I didn't protest though; I just pretended that it didn't hurt. He didn't know what he was doing.

"I didn't mean it," he managed, his voice breaking. "I lost her... I'm so sorry... So foolish... And Potter, he saw it, he saw me say it, saw me lose—" He stopped talking, and I think it was because he was trying not to cry. His breath was erratic and hot against my face, tears streaming down his cheeks.

I wrapped my arms around him and led his head to my shoulder, and he just... let go. He clutched onto the back of my robes and... sobbed. Just like the night his mother died.

I held him, too, thinking of the time I'd cried in front of him, and how he'd comforted me. I had tears in my eyes too, disgusted by what I had seen. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought...

I listened to his sobs, his gulping breaths, and held him, trying not to cry myself. When he sobbed, it was like he was wrenching my heart from my chest, and I couldn't imagine how he must feel. The son of the bastard who had done this to him, the son of the girl who he had loved, had watched this... And how would Harry know just what he'd seen? He'd seen his saintly father be a prat, yeah, but he wouldn't understand... And he had no right going in that Pensieve, no right snooping around...

Harry Potter did not deserve his mother's eyes, and I _hated_ him.

* * *

A/N--thanks to my beta, Edgar A Poe. I would like to apologize for referring to her as a 'he' in my last chapter, for she is a female. Anyway, I think you will notice less typos, and that is becasue of her. A round of applause, everybody!

Personally, I like Harry. He reminds me of my best friend. I just didn't want any of you thinking that I hated him.


	44. Chapter 47

Chapter 47: Uncomfortable Situations

Severus let it all out. I think he had bottled up so many emotions that when he started crying, he just couldn't stop. I held him against me while he clutched me, and I ran my fingers through his hair. He'd been there for me so many times, and he had helped me in more ways than I think he knows, and I just hoped I could even be half as helpful to him. I'm not really an expert in comforting people. I really wish I could think of something epic to say, but nothing came to mind. Severus always seemed to know how to comfort me, even if he didn't say anything. Hopefully I was doing all right.

When he was done crying, we lay on his bed, and we still didn't speak. I still couldn't think of anything to say. Instead, I just stared at him, brushing his hair from his eyes. I ran my fingers along his arms, touching his face, just continuing to stare at him, and touch him. He kept staring at me too, his eyes a little bloodshot, face blotchy and red, as silent as I was. He didn't tell me how betrayed he felt, or how evil Harry was. He just stared at me, with an indecipherable emotion, while I held his face, brushing my thumb over his mouth, or running the back of my fingers along his cheek. Mostly, I touched his face, just feeling his skin against mine, but every now and then I ran my fingers down his arm and around his shoulder. We were both lying on our sides, so we could easily look at each other.

"Danielle?" he said quietly, leaning against the palm of my hand.

"Hmm?" I hummed quietly.

"I do love you," he reassured.

I nodded. I think he thought he needed to reassure me, like he felt I didn't believe him. But I did. I doubt Severus was one to throw that word around. He'd only said it to me once before, and I had said it to him a few more times than that, but I didn't say it very often either.

"I love you too, Severus." I knew it meant a lot to him. I don't think many people told him that, having seen glimpses of his life.

His mouth twitched upwards slightly, in a small, tired smile, and he closed his eyes.

A few minutes after, his breath became rhythmic and his mouth parted slightly. Even then, I continued to touch his face, staring at his relaxed features. I'd never actually watched him sleep before. His face softened, and it was like his whole body relaxed—he was no longer tight and composed, but soft and... peaceful. Like the rare genuine smile, or the even rarer laugh.

When I finally got tired, however longer later, I turned onto my other side and pressed my back against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer, his body warmer and more comforting than any comforter the Malfoy family could give me. Whether he wrapped his arms around me in his sleep, or because he woke briefly (he was a light sleeper) I didn't know, but it was wonderful.

* * *

I was vaguely aware of the fact Severus got up and left the room before I did. I was still mostly asleep, so when he got out of bed (me feeling colder without his body beside mine) I rolled over, wrapping most of the black comforter around me. Severus didn't change his sheets to the ones Lucius and Narcissa gave us, saying that his sheets were fine as they were, and he would change them when they needed to be changed, and he didn't use the black comforter they gave us either, since we'd made the arrangement I would be sleeping on the couch unless Gabriel had a nightmare, so that comforter was kept in a closet in the hallway, where he kept other blankets and pillowcases and sheets. Needless to say, he didn't have very many, so that closet was mainly full of household items: Muggle ones that I had never seen before.

I lay there for a minute, slowly waking up, feeling a bit groggier than usual, my legs heavy, like they were made of lead. I heard the sounds of the shower starting up. Severus showered, because he told me they were faster and more practical. I liked to take baths, because they were relaxing. Severus took showers in the morning, and I took baths at night, so neither of us had to complain about the lack of hot water. Apparently, we both liked to have rather hot water when bathing. Showers woke him up, and baths made me tired. It was perfect, really. When I spent the night at Draco's, we'd had the same schedule as Severus and I did (except Draco also preferred baths) and so I hoped that I wouldn't have to change it. Thank God for that. Maybe it was some inborn male trait, that they liked bathing or showering in the morning, because my mother and I had to literally fight over who would take a bath first, since we both bathed at night. Maybe night washing was a female trait. Strange.

I felt a little bit lousy, wondering if perhaps I'd woken up earlier than I was supposed to. I looked at the clock on his wall, and realized that I had woken up earlier than normal. I didn't have school for awhile, and neither did Gabriel, although he would have to wake up in a half hour if he wanted to make it to the bus on time.

And I realized something very suddenly.

This was the first time we'd slept in the same bed without Gabriel.

Gabriel's nightmares had started to wane slightly, so there were nights I remained on the couch. He still had nightmares, but not as much. He hadn't had a nightmare last night, apparently, and so we'd slept in the same bed, all night, without him. I wondered if that changed anything.

Feeling a little ill, wondering if perhaps I was getting the flu, I kicked the blankets off of me, listening as he turned off the shower. Severus usually woke me up after he was dressed, so I realized that it was about the time I got up anyway. I felt a small aching pain near my lower back and my breasts ached slightly, something I attributed to the spot of Crucio I'd endured two days ago. I got out of bed and started walking to the bathroom, needing to relieve my throbbing bladder, and brush my teeth.

I walked down the hall tiredly, then watched as Severus walked out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist, and nothing else. I stared at his chest, at the little droplets of water running down it, the towel snugly wrapped around his hip bones, the V they made clearly visible... I stared at him, loving the way his body was shaped, especially loving his arms, my eyes traveling over every inch that I could see, until my eyes met his, and I saw that he was, very clearly, amused.

"I take it you are not offended by my sartorial choice, then?" he asked mockingly, an eyebrow arched.

I blinked a few times, stunned by how achingly attractive he was, how I wanted to touch his chest, and kiss it, and kiss his wet mouth, and have my hands in his wet hair... "Or lack of," I responded with a smile. I'd never seen him with just a towel on before. Sounds strange, considering I'd been living with him for awhile now.

He stepped closer to me. Oh, he knew what he was doing, I had no doubt in my mind about that. He was so close to me I could feel the heat from the steam rising like little wisps of white smoke from his body. He stared down at me, and his warm and damp hand touched the side of my face gently. He was staring down at me with hooded eyes, a small smile on his face.

He leaned down and kissed me gently on the mouth, and I kissed him in return, parting my mouth, allowing him to deepen it. He was gentle, almost in a teasing way, and I was uncaring about the fact that I was pressed against his chest and it was going to make my school robes somewhat damp. It was all right, I was going to have to change anyway. The only thing that didn't make this kiss absolutely perfect was the fact I really needed to pee.

He pulled away after a few moments, then pressed his forehead to mine, and I kept my hands on his bare chest, feeling his warm, damp skin on my palm. "Thank you, for last night," he murmured.

For some reason, I felt strange, caught off-guard, much like I had the time he'd told me he loved me. I don't know why it did, though. "You're welcome," I said, and he pulled away, still looking down on me. He then brushed past me, and I glanced behind me, so I could see his back.

I went into the bathroom and yawned, putting the toilet seat down so I could sit on it without falling in.

And when I looked at my panties, I felt like dying.

The achy breasts, the irritable mood, the grogginess... I should have realized… But I wasn't supposed to start for two more days! I had counted, and I wasn't supposed to start until—oh, shit. No, I had counted wrong. With all the stress of the Death Eater meeting two days ago, I'd forgotten that I was starting my period today.

I hurriedly finished, washing my shaky hands, feeling tears in my eyes, knowing I was going to have to go change my clothes, not really wanting to discuss this with Severus. This was my first time having my period at his house. How could I have not planned this? And it wasn't like I stocked up on supplies either. No, I usually left them at school, and there were always supplies at my old house, considering my mother lived there as well. But I had run out during my last period, and I'd told myself I was going to buy more, but I had procrastinated—what with Gabriel and all, I had forgotten about it. I would need to buy more... Well, Severus had bought me a toothbrush, perhaps he thought to buy some supplies for my little problem... I opened the small cupboard underneath the sink, finding nothing but water pipes.

"Oh, bloody hell," I grumbled, feeling my throat close up, and tears stinging my eyes. I slammed the cupboard door shut, and got up, opening the mirror, and sifting through the toothbrushes, even though I knew there wasn't anything there.

There were a few small knocks on the door, and I wondered if it was Gabriel. "Er, I'm in here," I called, my voice cracking audibly, tears in my eyes.

"I know," came Severus' voice. I stopped going through the toothbrushes and colognes and perfumes, slowly shutting the mirror.

I cleared my throat. "Er, did you forget something?" I asked.

"No..." What was he doing, then, talking to me through the door?

I stood there for a minute, realizing that Severus obviously didn't have anything for me, and I opened the door, looking at him curiously. He was still in his towel, and he was looking at me uncomfortably, as if I had opened the door naked or something. "Did you need something? I'm finished, anyway."

"No," he said again, his voice strained.

I took in a deep breath. It was a bit ironic, talking to him about it. I'd had my first period during the second term of my first year. I'd woken up in the middle of the night because of my cramps. Of course, I hadn't realized what they were at the time, and thankfully I didn't have cramps often after that. When I went to the loo, I'd freaked out.

Apparently, in primary school, they have a program where they take all of the sixth graders in a room and explain what happens during puberty. Considering that I'd turned eleven before then, I'd never gotten to learn about it, and it had somehow escaped the attention of my mother to explain it. So, yes, I'd thought I was dying. I wish to God that I hadn't freaked out as I had. Perhaps if I'd known, I would have found McGonagall, or at least gone to Madam Pomfrey. But I hadn't known, and so I did what Slytherins were told to do in the case of an emergency, and went to my head of house.

I'd banged on the door to his quarters. I'd realized by then that we didn't like each other, but this was before I'd gathered up the courage to even talk back to him, and so it wasn't like we'd had arguments yet. He'd opened the door, in his grey nightshirt, and demanded what I wanted and I'd sobbed (quiet pathetic, I know) and told him I was dying, that I was bleeding, and it wasn't where blood normally was. God, I feel so bad for him, having to explain to a distraught girl he hadn't really liked something her mother should have told her. Other than that, I'd never talked about my period to anyone, not even my mother, except to remind her to buy supplies when we were out.

Seems somehow ironic now, talking to him about it.

"Severus, er..." I mumbled, unable to finish, feeling extremely embarrassed.

There was a moment of silence. "You're . . . on your cycle," he finished for me, the word "cycle" sounding very strange coming from him. I'd never heard that before. It was also odd hearing him say it when still only in a towel.

Of course, what was odder was that he knew.

"Um . . . how'd you know?"

His black eyes were looking everywhere except my face. He wouldn't look at me. "The sheets were—" He didn't finish. He just cleared his throat.

"Oh," I managed weakly.

Oh God. Why me?

Then, as if my day wasn't horrible enough, I felt a searing, blinding pain in my left arm, and I screamed out.

Within a second, Gabriel was running out into the hallway, looking dazed, but worried. "What happened?" he demanded, his bleu eyes wide with fear.

"Er—nothing—stubbed my—" I looked down, noticing I was clutching my arm. "Stubbed my arm in the door," I added hastily, the burning sensation worse than before. An extremely stupid lie, but I hoped he'd believe me anyway.

"Okay, just as long as you're not hurt way bad," he said, going back to his room, rubbing his eyes, shutting the door behind him.

"Is yours burning?" I asked in a whisper, clenching my teeth together. Why did it have to burn?

He shook his head. "No. I'll see to it he gets to the bus." He looked at me, his face full of concern. "He realizes we live together, and so he knows you do not have to leave Hogwarts. We do not have time to get you... feminine products." He looked like he might be sick, and I felt like I was going to be sick too. Wearing already soiled panties while I am on my period, without anything to stem the flow... I hate the Dark Lord. I _hate_ him.

"Well, we'd best not keep him waiting," I grumbled, feeling disgusting, hoping we could do this quickly, or that he would allow me to talk to Narcissa before continuing our meeting.

He gripped my arm and I saw his jaw clench. "Is there some spell that could—"

"If I knew, I would have done it, and no offence, Severus, but if there was a spell, I'm not sure I'd be comfortable having you point your wand there and mutter a spell you haven't done before, all right?" I snapped angrily, that pain in my arm intense, the embarrassment of the situation, and the fear of seeing the Dark Lord without Severus, not to mention the fact I got irritable during my "cycle," really making me angrier than I probably should have been.

He opened his mouth as if to reprimand me, but then he closed it, probably thinking better of whatever he'd been about to say, and with a crack, we Apparated into the yard in front of Malfoy Manor. I looked at him and smiled, despite the situation, despite the fact I was sure my smile looked more like a grimace.

"I don't want to walk in with you only wearing a towel. I don't think I could take the, uh, taunts at the moment."

He nodded, then let go of my arm. He stared at me, then clenched his jaw together, nodded again, and Disapparated.

The gates opened for me, moving blithely as if they were alive, as they always did, and I walked through the grounds, closing my mind off, feeling the unclean, sticky, wet feeling between my legs that made my stomach churn, and told myself that if he would not allow me to talk to Narcissa privately before he gave me my orders, that I would do whatever it was he asked me to do as quickly as possible. I would _not_ discuss my period with him. That was beyond disturbing. He was not my father, even if it was because of him I'd been born. Like my mother would have married David Evans on her own free will.

I glanced at the albino male peacock, smiling. I really liked that peacock.

I stalked into the manor, going directly to the drawing room, which was where he normally was, and especially since he was expecting my company. I sort of wished that we were allowed to just Apparate into the manor, but considering security...

When I walked into the drawing room, I saw him sitting in his chair, and I bowed respectfully towards him. After I bowed, I looked back at him and started walking closer, his red eyes on me.

"You're a disheveled mess. Did I interrupt your morning with Severus?" he asked tauntingly, the innuendo as clear as day. It was disturbing how poetic his sentence had seemed, how smooth he'd said it, the delicate stress on the S's, and the lilting tone he'd said it in.

I opened my mouth to answer, but then I heard a hiss from behind me. I did not glance behind me, though. Severus had told me never to look at anywhere except the Dark Lord, unless he'd asked me to do something that required me to. A large snake slithered past me.

Nagini was a beautiful snake. I wouldn't lie. She was all coiled muscle—all power .She was thick, and not to mention, far longer than she normally should have been. But she was beautiful. I could respect that, and I could definitely respect the Dark Lord's love of her. Snakes were beautiful and powerful. If the Dark Lord could produce a Patronus, I imagine it would be a snake, like mine. It made me a little sick knowing that we could have shared that in common. He would never know, as I could not produce a Patronus in front of him. Still, I'd like to think that the reason my Patronus was a snake was a far better reason than why his would be.

I smiled when I thought of Prince, curled up safely in his cage at Spinner's End. I wondered if the Dark Lord thought of Nagini as a pet, if he cared for her at all, or if there was some darker reason why he had her. I can't really imagine him really caring for anything other than himself and his thirst for power, but then again, I can't really imagine any dark reason for having a pet.

But there was something about Nagini I didn't like; something sinister in her hisses... Almost as though she had a part of the Dark Lord inside her... At any rate, being around her made me feel nervous, even though I had no fear of snakes, and I thought she was very beautiful. She was far larger than she should have been, and if she wanted to, or if the Dark Lord commanded her, she could easily kill me. I had heard (through Severus) that she had almost killed Ron's dad. Could an animal be evil? How had she known where to go, who to attack? Perhaps it was because the Dark Lord was a Parselmouth.

When she started slithering around me, in circles, I refused to look away from my "master" and I refused to show any sign of fear, although I will admit I was nervous. He continued to stare at me, as if expecting me to push her away, which I was not stupid enough to do.

I heard Nagini hissing underneath me, while she slithered away, heading towards her owner. The Dark Lord looked at his pet, hissed something in return, and she curled up beside him, her large frame somewhat foreboding, and I saw her eyes on me, just as his eyes were on me. She hissed again.

I think it would be pretty cool to be able to talk to snakes. Alas, though, I doubted I would ever learn. I knew Harry was—_everybody_ knew Harry was—and I wondered if he'd gotten it through his genes. Had Lily been able to? I would have to ask Severus later. I would have thought that, me being related to him, I would have shared his talent. But, obviously, I didn't. I was a little jealous.

"Nagini tells me you're menstruating," he said, as if he had any right to talk to me about my personal, private business. But, I guess, he probably thought he did.

"Yes, my lord," I answered, wanting to die.

"Ah, yes, I forget that women _bleed._ To be able to have power over birth, over life..." He snarled slightly, as if it angered him. "Tell me, Danielle... Do you enjoy knowing that you have the ability to give birth? That it is your blood that enables life to continue? That because you bleed, you have a power that no male shall ever know?"

This was something I would have rather not discussed. I had never really talked about my period with anyone. To me, it was something I held private. It was mine. It wasn't something others needed to know. I wasn't Jasmine, who felt comfortable talking about how heavy hers was and how often it came.

"I suppose it's... nice, my lord," I said, a little off-guard at his questioning.

"Your mother never wanted children." I blinked a few times. Why was he talking about this? "Does it disgust you, knowing that those less worthy, those whose blood is not pure, share this ability with you?"

"Yes," I answered, knowing that was what he wanted to hear.

"Do you want children?" he asked, and there was something in his tone that bothered me.

"One day, perhaps," I said.

He nodded slowly. "Yes... You are so different from your mother. So different in many ways... Was she proud of you, when you first bled? Were you?" The Dark Lord was not a curious person. He would not be asking these questions for no reason. It disturbed me, how much he wanted to know about it. It disturbed me at how he seemed a little angry when he spoke about children, or bearing them for that matter. Why would he be so interested in that? Or mothers, for that matter?

Although I felt disgusted, and a little embarrassed, I answered him. "My mother wasn't there, and we never talked about it, my lord. I was at school, so I… had to talk to Severus about it."

He smiled a lipless smile, and there was a gleam in his crimson eyes that bothered me. "How… appropriate. And does he enjoy being inside of you, was he inside of you this morning? Does he enjoy the feel of your power on him?"

And this had spiraled into something that I definitely didn't want to discuss. But I had to.

"No, master."

He stared at me strangely. "A power which no man can have..." He stared at me, as if he was considering something, his malevolent eyes searching me. I felt extremely uneasy, him staring at me like that. I couldn't know what he was thinking, but I had a feeling that it wasn't pleasant, whatever it was. Even though Legilimency was a bit easier for me than Occlumency, I wasn't foolish enough to try it on the Dark Lord. I couldn't break through those gifted at Occlumency, anyway.

"A power which I would like to feel... Were it not you had been claimed, I would be very pleased to have you share it with me." My heart leapt into my throat. What did that mean? Surely not... "As it were, you have been, and thusly, we must continue."

He could not have been talking about...

"I trust you remember your love of Shakespeare?" One corner of his mouth lifted, and he rolled his wand between his fingers. I nodded barely, still a little shaken at what had just happened. "You have killed a child—something that which proves your obedience towards me, your obedience to follow my orders.

"It does not, however, prove your willingness to do it immediately, when you are first ordered, and how you are ordered. Killing a child is not enough. You must do it as I say, when I say. You could have spared a tear for the filthy muggle boy, for all I know. I trust that is not the case?"

"Of course not, my lord," I promised, and for once, I wasn't lying. I had not cried when I had killed him, because he was safely in Spinner's End.

He stared into my eyes, and I saw his mouth turn upwards into a smile. "Very well. Now, you shall prove the extent of your loyalty, how thorough you are, now." He pulled his sleeve, said a name I didn't catch, and pressed his wand to his Dark Mark, it black against his chalky white skin.

A few moments later, that odd man I somewhat recognized came in, dragging a fighting girl, perhaps a bit older than I was, but not by much. I thought she looked somewhat familiar, but only vaguely. She wasn't in Hogwarts now, if she had ever been.

She was struggling against him, and her mouth was open, and her face was red and shining with tears that had fallen down her face, but no sound came from her. She had obviously been silenced.

"Wormtail, leave us," he spat, and the man bowed and left obediently, almost fearfully. For some reason, I think I may have heard someone else say the name Wormtail before, but I may have imagined it. The girl fell to the floor, the ropes around her body making it impossible for her to stand, and she wriggled about, sobbing, although I could not hear her.

"Kill her. And try not to make such a fool of yourself, as you did with your mother, I should hope you have progressed further than a nosebleed."

I couldn't hear her screaming. At least I had that in my favour. I looked at the Dark Lord, thinking of his image, of his nose-less, lipless, slightly humorous image, and then back at her, trying to picture her as him, trying to summon up all the hatred I felt for him inside of me, desperately searching for the click in my head I'd found when I'd been ignoring Draco.

I thought of Severus, killing that girl as if it was something simple.

"Avada Kedavra!" I shouted, and the green enveloped her.

She didn't move. She stared up blankly at me, and I kept my emotions away, focused on that click. It was easier than I thought it had been. So simple, killing someone... It didn't take much to murder... It wasn't the act itself that was hard, but the emotions, actually finding the ability to do it...

I had used my hatred of the Dark Lord to kill her. I had to mean it, right? What else could I do?

"Very good, Danielle," he congratulated. I forced my emotions into the back of my head, tried to think about it, tried not to think about how I'd just murdered a girl I didn't know, as if she was nothing more than a mosquito. That's all she could be to me in order for me to do this. A mosquito. "You have my permission to leave... Ah, but you do not have an escort?"

"Severus had class to be ready for," I lied.

"Then Narcissa shall take you home. She is in the foyer, I imagine."

I bowed respectfully and turned to leave. I wanted to get to Narcissa quickly, so I could ask her for something to stem the flow, until we could buy some of my own.

"Are you not curious as to the mudblood's name?" he inquired.

Mudblood. That meant she had gone to Hogwarts at some point. I turned around and glanced down at her form, at the curly hair that obscured her eyes, at her still, dead body. Personally, no, I didn't want to know her name. Hearing a name made her a human. I couldn't think of her as a human. It was like when I tortured people—if I thought of them as people, it was so much harder. If she was just a nameless face, someone in the crowd, then it was far simpler for me to hold it in, until it was prudent for me to get rid of the click.

"I can hardly see how the name of a mudblood has any importance, but I suppose if you want to tell me, master," I said, looking away from her and at him, impassively.

"Penelope Clearwater," he intoned, as if I should know it.

The name did strike me as familiar, but I didn't know it very well.

"You may leave," he said, when he noticed my lack of acknowledgement.

I was glad to.

* * *

Severus and I were walking through the store, with Gabriel walking beside us, his hand on the cart. Apparently his mum made him keep his hands on the cart at all time, probably to prevent him from either running off, or being carried away. He was listening to something he called a "walkman" which I think produced magic through something called a CD. He tried explaining it to me, but it still didn't make sense. I don't understand how muggles make anything work without magic. They must be geniuses.

It was good that he was listening to the Sex Pistols and bopping his head to it, because that meant Severus and I could talk without the fear of him overhearing. Obviously I didn't want to have him listen to us talk about murdering.

"Penelope Clearwater?" he repeated, his brows furrowing slightly.

"Yeah. I don't remember her, though. Obviously not a Slytherin. She was muggle-born."

He nodded slowly. "I do," he said slowly. "She was... intelligent."

I didn't want to hear any more about her. I'd had a rather good cry about it during one of my breaks. I'd gone to Moaning Myrtle's loo, figuring no one else would be there, and no one would pay attention to any crying sounds if they walked by.

"Er, Severus, can I talk to you about something?" I said, feeling a little awkward bringing it up, but knowing that I had to.

He peered at me curiously, and I knew he suspected that I was going to be talking about something unpleasant. Of course he wouldn't mind me talking to him. He had never denied me talking about anything with him before. "Did something happen? Something other than the obvious?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Nagini, I don't know, sensed that I was on my cycle, I guess. She told him." He raised a wary eyebrow at me, and I could tell he was worried. "He was asking about it—asking if I enjoyed knowing I had a power no man had, and then he... Well, he asked if you liked having sex with me when I was, you know, bleeding, if you liked having my power on you... And then he said he would have liked to have me share it with him, but... but that I was claimed, and he couldn't..."

Severus stopped moving the cart, and stared at me with horror etched onto his face. It was the horror etched on his face that frightened me the most. "Danielle, have you ever once told anyone that you and I have not had sex?"

"Er, well, just Sirius and Lupin..."

He looked extremely relieved at that, as if I had told him exactly what he needed to hear. "Danielle, no matter what, even if we are fighting, you must _never_ relay that to the Dark Lord, understand?" I nodded, somewhat fearful at his tone. Although he talked quietly so that no one overheard, it still frightened me, the way he spoke. "The Dark Lord needs his followers to be loyal. He needs them to keep their hatred of each other purely competition." I nodded. I noticed that many Death Eaters fought over who was more loyal. I think Bellatrix held the award, to be honest, but people fought over it still. "The Dark Lord foresaw that some of his followers may have wished to cause a fellow Death Eater... anguish, by taking it out on the ones they love."

"You mean... what, like... seducing their wives or husbands or what?"

"By raping them," he corrected, his voice lower than it had been, although it had been pretty low. I felt suddenly uncomfortable, and my throat dried up. "He felt that if he condoned such actions, then he would have very few followers who would remain loyal to him. So, to prevent such an instance, he has made a... law, as it were, that no one is to force sex on someone who is claimed by a fellow Death Eater."

"Claimed?" I repeated, still not understanding the word, although I understood the implication of what the Dark Lord had been talking about, and I felt really sick, realizing how narrow of an escape I'd had.

He looked around to make sure no one was very close to us, then he glanced down at Gabriel, who was still bopping his head, unaware of the conversation. "I have my claim on you. No man—or woman, for that matter—can have relations with you, otherwise they will be punished. This means they cannot rape you or use any sort of love potion, nor use the Imperius curse to have you have sex with them. However, if you are willing, then the law is void. If they have any reason to believe that we are not together, or if we are fighting, they may have their way with you, willing or not."

I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I felt suddenly very queasy. "So... If they think we're fighting... they can rape me?"

"The claim is void if we are not content with each other, or if we are not... sexually intimate."

I felt my heart stop in my chest, and the floor disappear underneath me. If that was the case, then I would take Severus home, strip him naked, and shag him senseless, whether or not I was ready for it—unless he refused to do so, obviously. I would rather have sex before I was ready with Severus than have the Dark Lord rape me simply because he had a fetish I found disgusting.

"What? Is there—is there some sort of spell? Can he tell I'm a virgin? Because if there is, I want you to claim me, I'd don't want him, or anyone, raping me."

"There is no spell, merely a law. One does not disobey the Dark Lord and survive, and so, unless you have told him we are not sexually active, then you are perfectly safe. He found that he did not need to ensure it with a spell or proof. His assumption—as well as theirs—is enough to protect you. As I have told you, we have no reason to have sex until we are both ready. He will not break his own law in fear that his followers will view it as weakness, or perhaps encourage a rebellion."

I wondered if, perhaps, he had not mentioned the claim before in fear I would rush myself into having sex with him, or simply because he had not thought about it, considering I doubt Severus had ever really needed to pay much attention to the claim before. We started moving again, me feeling extremely uncomfortable.

"So... er, does the Dark Lord really like Nagini?" I asked, knowing that he knew I was just changing the subject.

He picked up some noodles off of the shelf he was by, and put them in the basket. I noticed that he was, probably deliberately, covering my feminine supplies with everything else he put in the basket. I had always done the same thing too, whenever I was at the store with my mother. We'd always bought muggle supplies as well, mainly because my mother said she had a "bad experience" with a magical product, and she would never elaborate. Not that I wanted her to. Thankfully, she was private about her menstruation as well, which is probably why she never talked to me about it.

"I suppose as much as he likes anything," he answered carefully, as if he wasn't sure either.

"How come I can't talk to snakes? I'm related to Harry, aren't I? I mean, was James or Lily a Parselmouth?"

"Not that I am aware of," he said, pushing the cart, his eyes moving over anything that he was interested in buying. We'd both gotten dressed in our muggle clothes, something that Gabriel was pleased about. He thought our robes looked funny. I thought our robes were less constricting, but muggles had more of a variety, so I guess they both had their shortcomings. "Dumbledore believes that Potter is a Parselmouth because the Dark Lord is."

"Why is that? They're not related, are they?" I asked, slightly fearful because then that might mean I was too, and considering what he had been wanting to do...

"They are in no way related. Dumbledore believes there is a connection, but he does not reveal to me why." Severus sounded a little irritated that Dumbledore wouldn't tell him, but I didn't pry.

I looked down at Gabriel, somewhat hearing the music from the walkman he was listening to. "Did the Dark Lord do something to Nagini? She seems a little... strange..."

"I believe he has. I don't believe he would be attached to her if that were not the case. She attacked Arthur Weasley on his command, and perhaps it is because he can speak to her, but I believe there is something more."

I furrowed my brows in thought, imagining Nagini strike at Arthur. I had never seen Arthur Weasley, but in my mind, he looked very much like Ron, maybe a little fatter with a receding hairline. I imagined what it must have been like for him to have a snake striking him, biting him, sinking her long fangs into him. It must have been quite painful.

"He's lucky he lived," I pointed out, still thinking on the gruesome imagery in my head.

"Very much so," he agreed, grabbing some bananas and checking them, so as to make sure they were ripe.

"God, can you imagine how painful and slow that death would have been? Having a snake tear into your jugular, and a huge snake at that."

"I don't imagine it would be a pleasant way to die," Severus said, still focusing on the banana, then putting it into the basket. "Perhaps we should speak of something other than Nagini tearing into jugulars," he suggested, his lips pursing slightly, as if the thought disturbed him.

"Sorry," I muttered. Severus didn't like talking about Death Eater stuff unless it was necessary.

"Don't apologize. You've had a trying day. I would prefer not to speak about Nagini attacking Mister Weasley at the moment, considering it is because of that I had to teach Potter Occlumency."

Oh, well, I guess that made sense. "Er... Are you going to continue teaching him?" I asked tentatively as we entered another aisle. It was the cereal aisle. There was only one other person looking in it; some blonde fat kid who was holding a box in each hand, as if he couldn't decide which one he wanted.

"Most emphatically not," he informed icily, as if the very thought caused him internal pain.

We walked past the kid, and I tugged Gabriel's head phones off of his ears. He looked at me with his blue eyes narrowed, and folded his arms. "What?" he demanded snippily.

"Go pick a box of cereal," I ordered, perhaps a bit harsher than I should have. He looked a little off-put by my tone, but put his headphones back on and went to go pick some cereal.

"I don't see why Dumbledore didn't just—oof!" I was cut off when the fat kid ran past me, smacking into me hard enough to make me smack into the cart, ramming it into Severus' hip.

"Hey, Mum!" he shouted, running out of the aisle, holding two boxes of cereal.

"Watch where you're going!" I snapped at his retreating, large backside, rubbing my ribs and Severus rubbed his hip bone. He either ignored me or didn't hear me.

Severus looked at Gabriel while I continued to glare at the end of the aisle. "We just need milk, and then we can leave," he said, looking into the cart.

"I'll get it," I said, still rubbing my ribs.

He squeezed my hand in a gesture of thanks, and I smiled at him, leaving the aisle, heading towards the milk. I was half-way there when I realized why I had felt a little strange when Severus had said "thank you" to me that morning. It was because he had never said it before. Not once. My mind flashed back to his most recent birthday, when I'd given him that book, and he'd said it was "much appreciated." He hadn't said "thank you." He never had. That was why it had affected me so much.

I suppose most girls might have been upset that he was still in love with Lily. I guess most girls would have been angry that he'd been upset at the memory because it was when he lost Lily, and that he'd come crying to me about someone else he loved. Maybe most girls would have been indignant about it, upset, annoyed at what had happened last night. But then again, maybe I was wrong about how most girls would act, since my version of most girls was based off of the ever-jealous Pansy.

Personally, I was fine with it. I knew he loved me, and he didn't need to prove it to me. I didn't need for him to show me off like a trophy. I wasn't Draco. I didn't need him to only pay attention to me; to forget every other woman in his life. I wasn't Pansy. I had exactly what I wanted. I had his love.

Lily was perfect. She had died young, and beautiful, and perfect, and she would stay that way, forever, in his mind. The fact that Severus would even _consider_ me after her was amazing in itself. It was daunting. The fact that he loved me, me knowing just who else he had loved, was all I wanted.

Whether or not Severus realized just how much last night had meant to me, I didn't know, but it had meant the world. The fact he would show me his memory, _that_ memory, was all I needed.

We didn't need to talk about it. I certainly didn't want to bring it up, and I don't imagine he wanted to either.

Out of the whole memory, there was one thing that really bugged me. Well, all of it disgusted me. Why hadn't Lupin done anything? Wasn't he a prefect? I think Severus had told me he was... And how in the world did Lily go from loathing James to marrying him? Well, maybe she didn't hate him as much as it seemed, but still. How could she marry that... that prat? And how could Sirius _ever_ insult Severus, ever call him evil, disloyal, when Sirius had been that way? And how the hell could Dumbledore have let that happen; let James become Head Boy? All of it bothered me, all of it: how he'd been choking on those bubbles, how a circle of onlookers laughed...

But out of the entire memory, one thing stuck out. One thing plagued me.

Lily's face had twitched, as if she'd been about to smile. At first I thought she'd been trying not to laugh, but then I doubted it. I had been thoroughly disgusted, and I could tell by how she acted that she had been about to. No, she'd almost _smiled_ when she'd look at Severus' bare legs, his underwear showing, and… well, his robes had been further past his waist, and so his abdomen had showed, too. NO, she hadn't been almost smiling because it was funny (because it was anything but funny) but I think because...

She liked him.

I'd thought about it all day. I'd seen Harry walking through the halls, looking sullen, and I wondered if it bothered him. I wondered if his world had been shattered when he realized his saintly father was a heartless jerk. I wondered if he'd noticed her mouth twitch. I wondered if he, somehow, realized that she'd been almost smiling at Severus—as if she'd been about to smile at him in the same way I'd smiled at him that morning.

Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps she had thought it was somewhat funny, but was kind enough to repress it. I guess it could have been funny, I mean, it must have been, if a circle of onlookers had laughed. I didn't see it. But maybe (although I strongly doubt it) she did.

I would never tell Severus, of course. That would only make him upset. Whether or not he'd seen it, I don't know, but I wasn't going to point it out to him, because both scenarios as to why she had would have been devastating.

If she was almost smiling at him the same way I had smiled at him that morning, then that meant she had been somewhat attracted to him, which meant that Severus had not only lost his best friend, but meant he had lost someone who could have fallen in love with him. He lost his chance to be romantically involved with Lily, and I was not about to tell him that.

I looked at all of the cartons of milk, pricing them so I could grab the least expensive one, and picked it up, surprised at how cold it was. I turned around and went to walk back in the direction Severus was in, and smacked right into someone's cart. "Oh, sorry," I mumbled, in no way pleased I'd rammed my ribs again.

I looked up. It was that fat kid's family. He looked very much like his dad, but it was his other I was staring at. This blonde, horse-like woman seemed familiar to me. "Well, you had better be," snapped his father, glaring at me, his thick moustache twitching as if he was scowling at me. All right, I did not have to deal with this today.

"Excuse me, I apologized, didn't I?" I snapped at him. Really, was his attitude called for? I had apologized.

But the mother stared at me strangely, as if she'd seen a ghost. I furrowed my eyebrows at her, a little confused as to why she would be staring at me like that.

I went to move past them and continue on my way to Severus, but she stopped me. "What's your name?" she demanded.

Ugh, I hated shopping in London, but seeing as we also needed to stop by Diagon Alley to get some ingredients from the apothecary, we figured we might as well do our other shopping here too. For some reason, people in London were always moody.

"Why?" I asked, stepping a little bit away form her. What? Was she going to sue me for damages on her cart or something. Ridiculous.

"Just tell me your name," she demanded again.

"Not that it's any of your business, but it's Danielle Kensith. Goodbye," I snapped, hurrying past them, glancing back at them nervously. She was pushing her cart after me, saying something to her husband, while their son whined as he followed them. They were following me.

I hurried quicker, trying to make it to the cereal aisle, when they caught up with me. I was starting to get scared. Why were they following me? All right, getting angry because I'd bumped into them, I could understand that, but was there a reason for them to follow me? I glanced back in front of me, trying to see how close I was to the cereal aisle, realizing that it was the next aisle over, and I let out a sigh of relief, my hand clutching the milk tightly, my other hand in my jacket pocket, around my wand.

I glanced back behind me, and they were right there. "What do you want?" I demanded, walking backwards a bit, trying to get closer to the aisle Severus was in.

"Was your father David Evans?"

My heart sank. How did she know him? "I don't see how that's any of your business," I snapped, stepping away form them even more, and heading towards the aisle.

The pushed the cart closer to me. "Please—" she began, sounding almost needy.

"Just leave me alone, all right?" I said, realizing that I was starting to panic.

"Danielle?" Severus said, coming out of the aisle, pushing his cart the same time they pushed theirs forward. "Is everyth—" Their carts clanged together loudly.

"Excuse me," the woman said, glancing over at Severus, who I was now standing beside, putting the gallon of milk into the cart.

Severus glanced up at her, his mouth open as if to say something, but then it clamped shut, and I saw her lips purse. Severus glared at her in a way I'd only seen him glare at Harry or Sirius. The air around me was suddenly thick with tension, and judging by the look on her husband's face, I wasn't the only aware of the fact they were staring at each other with a deep amount of hatred.

"Hello, Severus," she greeted heatedly.

And, in an even more dangerous tone than hers, he responded; "Petunia."

* * *

A/N--more thanks to my wonderful beta!

Also, to hermionestargazer. Thank you very much for our talks, they help with not only the fic, but with other things as well.


	45. Chapter 48

Chapter 48: Righteous Anger

I knew that name. The face, also, looked familiar... but from where?

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, giving him a look that made me want to punch her in the face. "This isn't a store for _your kind."_

"My kind?" he repeated as if he had never heard the words before. I had only heard the words "your kind" in reference to mudbloods and muggles, which neither of us were. Was she also a witch? Then why would she know my father, unless she knew my mother... "Oh, you mean wizards," he said, feigning realization.

"Damn right we mean... that!" her husband spluttered angrily. "We don't talk of that nonsense!"

Their son only looked mildly intrigued by the proceedings. I noticed that he looked at me, and his eyes went right to my chest and he smiled. I stood closer to Severus and folded my arms across my chest. His eyes moved directly to my eyes, and he looked confused.

"Nonsense, Petunia," Severus repeated, almost ironically. "How fascinating." It sounded like an insult towards her, as if what he said would somehow offend her. I knew that tone. I just didn't see why he would say it, although it was obvious they were muggles, having referred to "wizards" as "our kind," although I didn't know why they would know what wizards were. Well, obviously, she knew Severus, so perhaps they'd met before... and obviously it hadn't been a pleasant meeting.

Petunia looked around at the people walking by, and she actually looked stung and worried, as if he had threatened her somehow. "Yes, nonsense, we don't deal with... people like you. Apparently my darling uncle thought differently. I never did like Emily... unless it came from David?"

"Perhaps," Severus said with a smirk. Of course, I was sure most of the magic gene came from my mother, seeing as my dad was only related to a mudblood... Lily's uncle. Petunia's uncle.

And it suddenly made sense.

I had a picture of her, after all.

"Danielle, this is Petunia—your cousin," he introduced, his black eyes never leaving her.

I stuck out my hand to shake hers, but she looked at my hand as if it would burn her. Her husband scoffed loudly and folded his arms, glaring at Severus, as if daring him to do something—daring him to do anything that would justify him yelling. After I held my hand out there awkwardly, I finally pulled it away and continued folding my arms over my chest, feeling embarrassed. She thought I was so disgusting she wouldn't even touch me. My own cousin. Just like Harry. My relatives (plural) hated me.

"We don't associate with... _filth_ like you," she spat at me.

"I beg your pardon!" I snapped, bristling slightly. Filth? How dare she! How dare she call her own cousin filth! "You could show a little courtesy, I'm your damn first cousin, you stupid—"

"Don't you dare talk to my wife that way!" the man shouted, face turning purple, a vein in his head pulsing.

"Well maybe she shouldn't—"

Severus put a hand on my arm and squeezed slightly, pulling me back to his side. I hadn't realized I'd taken a step towards her husband. Fury filled me—how dare she—how _dare_ she treat me that way? She didn't know me! She knew nothing about me! In fact, we hadn't even _told_ her I was a witch, she just assumed because I was standing next to Severus! How dare she judge me before she knew me?

"Let's try to be civil, Danielle," he commanded, giving me a look, and indicating the passer-by shoppers who had stopped to watch the argument unfold.

"Civil indeed," Petunia snapped. "I haven't seen her since she was a toddler, and here she is, flaunting herself with you and your—your—is that your child?" she asked, turning to see Gabriel, apparently for the first time.

Gabriel was still listening to his walkman, and seemed blissfully ignorant of the situation.

"Half-brother," he lied, although that was the official story.

"Hopefully on your father's side," she said with a sneer. She then looked at me, her blue eyes looking over my body quickly. "Of course, I imagine you bring your mother anguish too, bringing home frog spawn, talking about your... your freak friends! Just like _her_! Just like Lily!"

Severus' grip on my arm tightened and his jaw clenched.

"Lily was not a freak," I said, glaring at her.

"How would you know?" she demanded. "You didn't grow up with her! She was a freak!"

"Receive any letters recently?" Severus asked, his tone icy, his black eyes narrowed in her direction. His grip on my arm was so tight at this point my fingers were going numb. I tried to casually pull my arm out of his grip, but it was so tight that it would be impossible for me to do so without making it obvious, so I just stood there, flexing my fingers a bit.

Petunia looked rather afraid, considering his sentence wasn't that threatening. Perhaps it was his tone, because the cruelty in it would have been extremely hard to miss.

"Perhaps last summer?" he suggested, his voice low and threatening, his glare fiery. "Of course, I saw fit to remind you which time, considering you received so many from the headmaster."

"Shut up!" she ordered, her voice high-pitched.

"My wife would never correspond with that crackpot old—" He suddenly shut up, his mouth clamping shut, face turning more purple. Then again, I would have shut up too if Severus had looked at me the way he'd looked at Petunia's husband.

"Tell me, Petunia—inquiring minds wish to know—do you send Potter off with a letter each year? Or do you just sneak one to his owl at night, before he leaves? Do you, perhaps, take a peek at his books when he's not there? Have you ever, dare I say it, stolen his wand? Speaking words, saying fruitless incantations, praying that each time, something will happen?"

"Of course not—what a foolish—I would never—" she spluttered, looking at everyone around her, as if embarrassed.

"Perhaps you can send one with Danielle? I'm sure you've noticed her resemblance to your sister? The hair, the eyes—same shape, same colour, same vividness... Same face... Look your fill, Petunia. I want you to look into the eyes of the woman whose funeral you did not attend. Do you feel guilt? Jealous, perhaps? Jealous of the woman who is everything you're not?" he said coldly, pushing me forward so that I stumbled and had to steady myself.

I rubbed my arm, where he had been grabbing, feeling tears well up in my eyes. What was he doing? Petunia stared down at me, her eyes wide, her mouth working but no sound coming out.

"Or are you, perhaps, just as heartless as you always were? Look at her!" he ordered when she looked away, as if ready to leave. She looked back at me. "Look at her standing with _that awful boy_ who took her from you; who taught her what she was; who _showed_ her that she was _better than you." _

I stood there, feeling naked. Yes, naked. I couldn't explain it. I could feel her eyes all over my body. I could see the fear in those irises, could tell by the way her fingers clutched the cart, knuckles white. I could see her son staring at me, too, and her husband, mouth clamped shut, staring at the few people who had remained to look at us, from when I'd grabbed their attention when I'd yelled. I felt sick to my stomach; I felt sweaty and hot, and my breath would only come in short, ragged gasps.

"What do you feel Petunia? Staring at the ghost of your sister? Do you think she's angry that you didn't attend her funeral; her wedding? Did she write you letters, begging for you to come? Did you not attend because you were ashamed of her or because you were ashamed of your normal, boring, _worthless_ self?"

"Let's go, Petunia," her husband said, grabbing Petunia's arm and leading her away, so that she pushed her cart in the opposite direction, her face pale. She continued pushing, her son automatically tugging on her sleeves and asking her something. He glared back at us before pulling her closer to him, putting his arm around her.

I felt cold.

Severus pushed the cart in front of me, a smirk on his face that showed he was obviously pleased with himself. Gabriel put his hand on the cart and I followed them, feeling cold and numb.

* * *

The entire time we shopped at Diagon Alley, I remained silent. Whether Gabriel had shut the walkman off or if it had stopped working from the magic in the air, I didn't know, but now, he was going to everything, touching everything, asking questions about everything he looked at. I don't know if Severus noticed my awkwardness or not.

I was angry.

With Severus.

I felt so disgusted about what had just happened. I knew he wasn't a kind man—there was no disputing that—and I knew he could be cruel. But I had never felt so...

Used.

I felt used.

I felt disgusting, like something dirty had crawled in me, something cold and dirty.

Knowing that he still loved Lily, I could handle that. Dealing with his sarcastic comments, towards me and others, yes, I got that too. I could handle his little mood swings, the fact he sometimes got jealous if Draco was mentioned...

But that?

I didn't know Petunia. I knew nothing about her. It seems I met her once, when I was a toddler, before my dad died. My mum probably didn't want muggles in her house and had denied them access to it. So I couldn't tell you whether she deserved it or not. Severus did say she hadn't gone to Lily's funeral or wedding, and she had called her own sister a freak, and judged me before she knew me because I was standing beside a wizard. So obviously she wasn't' a pleasant person.

But for Severus to shove me to her, and talk about me like...

Like I was _her._ Like I was_ Lily._

It made me sick.

And he'd looked so damn pleased with himself. He was pleased about—about showing me off! It was like I was a trophy, a trophy he'd _acquired;_ a trophy he'd _won;_ a trophy he was using to taunt to other runners in the race, to taunt the losers with.

Perhaps it was because I was on my period and I was just irritable, but I felt so mad and disgusted I didn't even want to talk to him. I didn't want to start a fight in front of Gabriel. And Severus was so damn oblivious to my anger. He was so pleased with himself, so pleased, showing Gabriel Diagon Alley, explaining everything to him, as if everything was normal.

We didn't need much from Diagon Alley, so we didn't stay there very long. Also, it was starting to get darker, and so we really needed to get home. Gabriel didn't get out of school until three, and the bus dropped him off around four, so he didn't get home until four-fifteen, which meant that since we hadn't gone shopping until he got home, we'd spent most of the day in London, and it was late in the evening.

When he Apparated us back to Sinner's End, all of us holding groceries, I immediately let go of his arm and started putting what I had away. He came into the kitchen and started putting his things away too, me refusing to talk.

Perhaps it was just because of my anger towards him, but the silence seemed to hang over us like a dark cloud about ready to storm. Severus and I usually had comfortable silences, where neither of us had a need to talk. We didn't need to fill every waking second with words. But now, it felt like I should say something. I didn't know if he felt the awkward tension or if it was just me, but I kept my mouth pursed shut.

After we managed to get everything put away and we all went to the living room, Gabriel yawned. "I'm gonna play in my room," he said, walking over to his room and shutting the door behind him, leaving Severus with me in the living room.

I glared at him, then looked away.

"Why are you acting like this?" he asked, looking at me suspiciously.

Oh, so he _had_ noticed. Well, good for him then.

"I don't know Severus, why do you think?" He narrowed his eyes at me, and I folded my arms. "As if my day hasn't been pleasant enough, you had to go and... and act like that! What's your problem?"

"You don't know Petunia," he snapped. "That infernal woman treated Lily horribly; the times she came crying to me, because her own sister called her a freak... And she was the one who asked Dumbledore to join the school, even though she was a muggle! The woman didn't show at her sister's funeral or her wedding!"

"And so you show me off like some damn trophy, treating me like some... some whore you picked up off the street, some filthy trollop you brought to a business party to show off! How dare you? How dare you use me like that!"

"That woman called you a freak, and you expect me to just stand there and allow that? If I remember correctly, you were the one raising her voice first; you were the one who yelled at her husband; I was the one who had to hold you back!"

"I don't care! You don't _ever_ do that again! Don't you _ever_ talk about me like that again, don't you ever use me to get at someone else, do you understand? Did you even think about how that would make me feel? Do you realize how disgusted I feel? How dirty I feel? Who were you back there? That wasn't you!"

"You cannot expect me to tolerate her speaking to me or you that way, Danielle!"

"How very noble of you!" I screamed, stamping my foot, glaring at him. "I don't care about that, we could have just left, then, if you weren't gonna let me yell! I don't care about her calling me a freak! I care about you acting like some heartless Death Eater! I don't care about her treating me like some filthy mudblood!"

"What did you just say?" he demanded angrily, suddenly in my face, black eyes wild. "I've told you not to say that word around me! And you compare _me_ to a Death Eater?"

"Well, you were the one tossing me in front of her, and you know I didn't mean it like that, damnit! But that's what she was acting like, like she was some pureblood maniac freak and I was some mud—muggleborn and how did you respond? Exactly the same way! And, by the way, Severus, I'm not the one who joined up with the Death Eaters on my own free will because I believed in it, so sod off!"

"And yet who was the one killing Penelope Clearwater this morning? Who was at his side?"

"I had to!" I screamed, stamping my foot. "And this isn't about that, this about you treating me like an object! Just like you talking about not 'letting' me, as if you _own_ me! I won't tolerate you acting like Lucius bleeding Malfoy and I'm your damn peacock! This is ridiculous! You throwing me around like an insult—like that word you despise so much!"

"How dare you _compare_ me to Lucius!"

"Is that all I am to you, a way back, a way to show off to the world that you finally got Lily Evans in your bed? Huh? Is that all I am, some object? Why don't you go claim me, then, claim me, then, just like the rest of them! Claim me like some object!"

"You are not Lily! I am not with you because of that, and you know it, and how dare you use her! How dare you mention her to—"

"To prove a point? Justify the means and the ends? Do what you just did to Petunia? Act like a Death Eater? Well, guess what Severus, that's what we are! Act the part, right? That's what you always say! Act the part, act like a Death Eater, well, fine then! Fine! I can do that—I killed my mum, I tortured Gabriel's mum, fine! You want me to go in his room and kill him like I was supposed to in the first place?"

Severus bared his teeth for a second, his face turning a brick red colour, and opened his mouth to retort, and the lights flickered, as if the electricity was running low and the house was run on a generator. Somewhere in the back of my mind I was aware of a door slamming open. "I have never pretended to be a kind man, and I said what would offend her most! She has every right to feel horrid about her choices, and she had no right treating her own sister that way!"

"And you think Lily would be proud?" I demanded.

I felt a sharp, sudden pain in my gut and I fell to the floor, red stars floating in front of my eyes. For a wild moment I thought Severus had punched me hard enough to knock me to the floor, which was something I doubted Severus would ever do so I was shocked, but then I realized that I was _actually_ seeing red stars—as if he'd cursed me—stupefied me—but now, Severus was standing above me, looking as surprised as I felt, and I had no idea what was going on.

Suddenly, Gabriel jumped on me, screaming wildly, like he was a warrior in battle—his hands were on my throat, his face red, blue eyes blazing wildly, choking me.

I heard a light bulb explode, the light above me went out, shattered glass fell around me.

I heard every bulb in the house explode one after the other rapidly, the tinkling of the glass filling the house, while Gabriel squeezed my throat, yelling something, yelling in inarticulate rage—the house was shaking—

Severus grabbed Gabriel and tore him off of me, wrapping his arms around his abdomen, holding him in the air, so that Gabriel was kicking out, screaming, flinging his arms out as well, his hands open, as if he was trying to scratch me.

He'd heard us arguing. And I had said—

Oh God.

"Gabriel! Gabriel, calm down! Gabriel, you need to listen to me, now! Stop it!" The house shook violently and I heard Gabriel's voice break, and as I slowly stood, feeling extremely disoriented, I noticed that he was sobbing, sobbing but still shouting angrily, trying to squirm out of Severus' grasp.

"She had no choice, she is a spy, like me! She had no choice!" he shouted.

Gabriel finally stopped kicking out, but he continued crying. Severus held him for a moment before setting him down on the ground. He had waited until the house stopped shaking. We were in complete darkness now. Severus waved his wand, and I saw the glass on the ground fly back up in the air and repair itself in the fashion of a light bulb. Light filled the room.

"You killed my mum and you were going to kill me!" Gabriel shouted, his voice wavering and breaking, tears streaming down his face. "I hate you!" he screamed, and I felt like he had stabbed me in the gut and ripped out my heart simultaneously. Tears sprung to my eyes and I stood there.

"She did _not_ kill your mother," Severus told him, turning him so that they could look at each other, so that Gabriel's back was facing me. Why did this have to happen? How could I have been so stupid as to yell as loud as I had?

"She just said—"

"You misheard. She tortured your mother, yes, as Bellatrix tortured you; however—

"Gabriel, don't—" Gabriel had turned to attack me again, but Severus grabbed his shoulders and forced him to look at him. "However, Danielle believed that if she tortured your mother, the Dark Lord would allow your mother to take you home."

That was a lie, of course. By then I'd figured out the Dark Lord killed everyone I tortured. But I wasn't about to tell Gabriel that.

"And yes, Danielle was ordered to kill you. But she didn't. She should have—it is what I would have done. But did she? No, Gabriel. She acted foolishly. She sent her Patronus—I believe you will remember the snake from her wand—and sent for me. She put _everything_ on the line for you. Had the Dark Lord realized what we'd done—remember when we used magic to become each other?—he would have killed her. She did not care for her own life, because you were safely in my quarters. What she did was save you, although that was the exact opposite of what she should have done. Remember how I am a spy? Remember, yesterday, when I was getting you to your bus, how you asked if I ever had to kill people, and I explained that I did, if only to keep the good guys winning? Do you remember?"

He nodded sadly, and I felt some tears run down my face.

"That is what Danielle should have done. Killing you could have kept her secret, and instead, she chose to possibly destroy that for you. I would not have done the same. And here we are. And I am very glad—extremely glad—that she chose to save you, because I want you here, do you understand? She did a foolish thing for you, and we are _glad_ of it. She saved you."

Gabriel nodded slowly. "She wanted my mum to live?" he asked quietly, his voice breaking.

Severus nodded. "Very much so. Danielle is a horrible spy. But that is what she is, Gabriel. She's just like me." They stood there for a moment, both of them looking at each other. "Only good guys can make animals—silvery animals—come from their wand. Bad guys cannot. She has a snake, remember?"

Finally, Gabriel nodded. Severus let go of his shoulders and stood, his black eyes meeting mine for a moment before he looked back down at Gabriel, who was looking up at him. "I'm going to get you some Dreamless Sleep Potion, Gabriel, and you're going to go to bed. It's getting late."

Severus waved his wand and a wall sprung away, revealing a hidden passage leading upward. I had never seen this before. I didn't realize there was a secret room in this house.

"Danielle? "Gabriel said, walking towards me, tugging on my robes. I looked at him. He was as tall as my chest, and his face was wet with tears, his blue eyes puffy. "I'm sorry I got mad. But I'm happy you didn't kill me."

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. I rubbed the top of his head of his head. "I'm happy I didn't kill you too."

He nodded. "How come you didn't tell me you was a spy?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I was afraid, I guess."

"I woulda believed you."

I shrugged again. Once again, because of my foolishness, Severus had had to deal with the consequence. It was because of Severus Gabriel was calm again, not me. Would I ever learn to think before I acted?

Severus came back down and handed Gabriel a small vial. Gabriel took it and drank it, then handed the vial back to Severus. Gabriel then walked to his room and shut the door behind himself.

Severus turned to look at me, and I expected our argument to start up again, or for him to at least tell me that I should have thought before I yelled out what I had.

"I'm sorry," he said tersely, as if it hurt him to say it. I knew he was referring to what happened in the store in London.

I didn't say anything. I was still mad at him for acting as he had, but I didn't have the energy to start another argument with him, and the whole thing did seem a little petty after what had just happened with Gabriel.

"You may sleep where you wish," he informed, then turned on his heel and went to his room.

* * *

A/N--Today, January 8th, is my dad's 39th birthday.

Tomorrow, January 9th, is Severus' 48th birthday.

Happy birthday. I love you Sev! (You too dad, just not in the same way thank God. I'm not incest, you know.)


	46. Chapter 49

Chapter 49: Forgiveness is Divine

I stood there for a moment, looking down at my muggle clothes, and I sneered. I sat on the couch, grabbing the comforter and putting it around me. It wasn't the comforter the Malfoy family gave me, because I'd put that on Severus' bed because he'd mentioned he'd liked it. No, this was just some thin blanket I kept on the couch for when I slept out here.

I was determined to stay out here all night, and let Severus wallow. No, he was not getting off simply because he said he was sorry. No, he needed to understand what he'd put me through. Even if it was petty of me, considering Gabriel's pain was far more dignified than mine, and he'd forgiven me easily. No, I was staying on that couch all night.

Of course, about a half hour later of me berating Severus in my head, I found myself walking into his room quietly, trying not to wake him. He was sleeping in his grey nightshirt, although I knew he preferred to sleep naked. So that meant he had dressed in case I decided to go in his bed.

Was I that predictable? Or was he just cautious?

I went over to the wardrobe, got out of my muggle clothes, and shimmied into my red nightdress, the only red garment that actually looked good on me.

I stood beside his bed, watching him sleep. His chest moved rhythmically, and his eyes remained closed, his face relaxed, and endearing. I considered walking out of his room and going back to the couch.

But instead, with a sigh, I climbed into bed with him, wrapping the comforter around me, sinking my head onto the pillow that I loved.

I was on my side, facing him, and I saw that his mouth was curled up in a thin-lipped smile. A smile of suppressed triumph.

"You're not asleep," I accused.

He opened his eyes, and one of his eyebrows arched. "This upsets you?"

I let out a huff of air, then turned around, so that my back was facing him. I was scowling angrily, even though he couldn't see it. Why had I come into his bed again? It wasn't like we slept in the same bed routinely--only when Gabriel had a nightmare. Well, except last night.

I felt him move so that he was right behind me. I felt his hot breath before I felt his lips graze the back of my neck. Shivers went through me and I smiled a little bit and relaxed, then remembered I was still mad at him so I forced myself to scowl. I was not going to let him use his Slytherin wiles on me! No, sir!

"Danielle?" came his low timbre before he kissed the side of my neck gently, wrapping his strong arm around my abdomen.

"Hmm?"

"Do I frighten you?" he asked, and I heard the small tremor in his voice--a very slight tremor.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "What? No, that's ridiculous. I know you'd never hurt me, Severus. You're not abusive."

"I didn't mean it that way." He held me closer to him, so that his chest was pressed against my back. "At the store, did I frighten you?"

"I'm not sure what you mean..."

"Are you afraid of my feelings for Lily?" he rephrased.

I felt my heart stop for a moment. Is that what he thought my anger was about?

I let out a sigh. "Of course not. I know you love her. But I know you love me, too. That's not what I was mad at. I just didn't like being used like some filthy insult, like I was that word you hate. I just didn't like how you treated me."

"How can you be so understanding in that, but not in what happened with Petunia?"

"Well, you loving Lily isn't an insult to me--it's a bit glorifying, you know, that I even come near her. But--but to feel like all I am to you is a way of... paying fate back, like how you paid Petunia back, it's just... well, demeaning."

I felt rather than heard him sigh. "Had I known it would have upset you, I wouldn't have done it. I was not going to let her insult you, or me, or her. I am not ashamed of you, Danielle, and I do not feel as if I need to act like I am."

"So, what, I'm supposed to be honoured?"

"You don't _have_ to be anything, Danielle. I am not here to tell you how to feel about any given situation."

"But... Sometimes, Severus, I just want to be me, you know? Do you know what that's like? Having someone else's life hanging over you? I can't even go shopping in muggle London without her. And then you just... talked about me like I was her, and used me. It was... unnerving. I don't care about how cruel you were being. As far as I can tell, she deserved it. I just didn't like being the instrument. I'm not a trophy, Severus. You don't need to show me off. It's not like I crave it. I'm not Draco, for God's sake, and you're not Pansy."

There was a moment of silence, and I wondered if I had hurt his feelings, or drove the point home, or if he just thought I was being an immature prat.

"But you're not... having doubts about us?" he inquired slowly, and I suddenly realized exactly what he'd been worrying about this whole time.

"Of course not. Just because I'm mad at you doesn't mean I don't love you anymore."

"I just feel as though... you don't believe me when I say it," he murmured against the side of my throat, and I felt his thumb moving in small circles on my abdomen. He kept his head next to mine, so that his jaw moved along the nape of my neck, and his hair tickled the side of my face.

"I believe you. You've proven it to me plenty of times. You almost... You almost killed Gabriel for me. You jeopardized... everything; your cover, your life--for me. And then you signed the papers, and I know you didn't really want to do that. And I doubt you're the guy who just throws that word around to get in girls' pants. You even said you'd wait with the whole sex thing until I was ready, even though you're ready, and, God, Severus, you showed me that memory. You don't need to prove it--if anything, I'm the one who does."

He chuckled deeply and quietly, then tilted his head so his mouth was beside my ear, his breath tickling my lobe. "You are incredibly naïve at times, Danielle," he whispered, and I could almost feel his smile on my skin. I hated it when he was near my ear--I was always paranoid they weren't clean. But it felt nice, though.

"What do you mean?"

"You've proven yourself many a time," he said, trailing feather-light kisses down my jaw, which made me smile. Heat from his lips remained even after he moved his mouth downwards, resting his lips on my throat, and stroking the flesh there with his bottom lip gently. He knew I loved it when he kissed my neck. Damn him. "Your acceptance of her... The doe glass figurine... It's the little things that matter..." I could feel his mouth moving against my skin, the tip of his tongue grazing my flesh, and not to mention he suckled ever so gently at the end of each sentence, which only sent waves of pleasure through me, tying my stomach into knots, making me smile lazily.

"Oh..." was all I could mutter while I closed my eyes peacefully.

"As long as you've no doubts..."

"I won't leave you. I don't want to put you through, well..."

I trailed off, not wanting to bring up the two weeks he didn't talk to me and I didn't talk to Draco. Draco and I were moving into a tentative friendship again. We were still close, but each time one of our hands touched, or we stood too close together, one of us would either cough or step away hastily.

Somehow, he knew what I was talking about. He always did. "I never wished for you to ignore Draco. I would never ask you to abandon your best friend... I know too well the pain of..." He stopped kissing me and his arm around me loosened slightly. "I apologize for leading you to believe you had to do that. I won't apologize for being angry with you, however. I believe you cheating on me was a bit worse than what I did today, yes?" he said, almost a bit icily, or perhaps mockingly. Sometimes it was hard to tell.

And he was bringing that up. Now I felt petty and stupid for being angry, since what I did was much worse. Which I imagine was his goal. It's what I would have done. "That's not fair," I grumbled, remembering I was supposed to be mad at him, and I scowled again, refusing to smile anymore.

"Nor is life." He pulled me tight against him and bit gently into the nape of my neck and my back arched, the sudden warmth shooting down my spine and settling in places I would be embarrassed to tell him.

"I'm still mad at you." Oddly enough, my tone sounded anything but angry. In fact, I think I moaned it breathily.

"Indeed," he murmured before suckling on my flesh and dragging his teeth along the moistened area. I bit my lip and hoped to God he didn't hear my small whimper. He knew what he was doing. There was no doubt in my mind.

He brought my flesh into his mouth and moaned deeply, and I smiled. I lost the battle.

Oh well.

He pressed hot kisses up my neck and along my jaw line, and I turned, capturing his mouth with mine, and I flicked my tongue against his bottom lip. He opened his mouth and responded hungrily, kissing me fiercely, his body leaning over mine. I moaned into his mouth when I felt his hands ride up my sides, his palm moving along the silk of my nightdress. I arched my back so that I was pressed against his chest when his fingers ran along a ticklish spot I didn't realize I had, and I giggled a little, although it was muffled through our kiss.

I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to me, so that his chest was almost fully on mine. He was heavy, but he wasn't putting his full weight on me, so I wasn't uncomfortable. I felt one of his hands find its way under my back, so his fingers were splayed in between my shoulder blades.

Then his other secured itself over my breast.

I stopped kissing him for a moment, surprised. Even though it was through my nightdress, so he wasn't touching it directly, my skin was hot, and I could feel his palm, almost as if there was no fabric separating his hand. I thought that I would feel uncomfortable, or queasy--Blaise had squeezed my boob once when we were drunk, but it felt nothing like this. I wasn't uncomfortable at all. Actually, it felt rather nice. I was just a little stunned that he finally did it.

Severus stopped kissing me and pulled away a few seconds later and moved to stop leaning over me, and I realized he must have thought he'd overstepped his bounds because I'd froze. I grabbed his wrist, preventing him from moving his hand, and he looked at me, puzzled, then I leaned up and kissed him again, and he obliged fiercely.

He squeezed gently, and I arched into his palm. Although it didn't feel nearly as great as when he nibbled my neck, but it still felt surprisingly good. I don't know why Pansy complained about how boring it was when Draco grabbed her.

* * *

I awoke facing Severus, his arms wrapped around me as if we'd been hugging, and my own arms were around him, our legs entangled. His soft, slow breath on my face was relaxing.

We'd fallen asleep snogging. Well, we might have pulled away before we actually fell asleep, but I was only dimly aware of that. Our snogging never progressed further than him massaging my breast, which he seemed to enjoy thoroughly, which was quite an ego boost for me. Surprisingly, it felt nice. It brought small little tingles of pleasure to my stomach. Severus had amazing hands, and the way he moved them... Well, it only made it feel better. I'm glad he finally took that step, because it made me feel special, somehow. Warm and tingly--a bit like I'd made a mature decision, and I was satisfied with the result. I only hoped Severus didn't regret it, because I sure as hell didn't. Maybe he could do it again sometime. Of course, I preferred him kissing my neck, but I still felt like we'd progressed with our relationship--much like our first kiss, or the first time he told me he loved me. I liked how his thumbs encircled that area, and how it felt when my body reacted, even though it was through the silk.

A few minutes later, with me just memorizing the lines of his face, me realizing that he was a bit older than me--well, nineteen years could be construed as more than just a "bit" older--his eyes slowly opened. Suddenly, a thought struck me. He was old enough to be my dad. Well, except my dad was eight years older than Severus, but that wasn't the point. Was it creepy that I was dating a man so much older than me? It didn't feel like it. In fact, looking at him now, seeing the small smile lift on his face, and the way he blinked sluggishly, it didn't even seem like we were different ages at all--like we were in some alternate reality where everybody was the same, perfect age forever. I didn't care about the age difference; I didn't care about the fact he was my professor; I didn't care that this was illegal. I loved him. I didn't give a damn about what anyone else would think.

"Good morning," I breathed, trying to keep my mouth aimed in a direction away from his nose. I had horrible morning breath.

He made a small humming noise, then brushed his lips against mine slowly. "I suppose we'd best get ready, if we want to get Gabriel to school on time," he murmured against my mouth.

"Mm-hmm..."

He let out a sigh and got out of bed, glancing down at me while I laid flat on my back, staring up at him. He looked at me, and he smirked playfully at me. "Am I forgiven?" he inquired with a quirk of his eyebrow.

I scoffed slightly and tried to give him an affronted look, but I'm sure I just came off as surprised. He continued looking at me in that painfully arrogant way of his, knowing that I had, knowing that he'd won. I grabbed his pillow beside me and tossed it at him. He caught it deftly. "I let you grab my boob, didn't I?" I said, raising my eyebrows at him.

"That you did," he agreed, then tossed it back at me, and it hit my chest.

I scoffed, pretending to be offended, then stood up, wobbling on the bed dangerously, staring down at him. I swung the pillow and hit him upside the head with it. In one fluid motion, he jerked the pillow away from me with one hand and tugged me towards him with the other, so that I was leaning over the edge of the bed, wobbling dangerously, bent over a bit, rather uncomfortably.

"Don't stand on the bed," he ordered, then leaned up so he could press his mouth against mine, hard.

He pulled me off the bed and held me against him with one arm and spun me, so that his back was facing the bed. He delicately sat me back on the ground and pulled away. He held the side of my face for a moment, searched my face for a moment, then he sighed and shook his head. "You're going to make me late."

"I'm not stopping you," I informed innocently.

He just sighed again then left the room, but not before turning around and glancing at me.

I sat back down on the bed, then flopped backwards, arms spread out, closing my eyes for a moment, with a small smile on my face. When he was done showering, I could go in there and take care of my business, then we could go about our normal business, and have a normal Friday. I loved waking up with Severus.

Just as sleep was starting to come again, the sound of the shower going through the house, I heard the door creak open. I opened my eyes and turned my head to see Gabriel walking in tentatively.

I slowly sat up, brushing off my crimson nightdress although nothing was on it. I cleared my throat. I was nervous, suddenly. "Er, hey Gabriel," I greeted, wondering why he woke up before his alarm went off. Then again, he had gone to bed a bit earlier than normal, hadn't he?

He hopped onto the bed and sat beside me, putting his head against my shoulder, and wrapping his arm around mine. "Hey, Dani," he sighed.

I rubbed the top of his head. "Today's Friday, bet you're all excited." Mostly, I spoke to fill the silence.

"Sorry I choked you," he blurted quickly, as if the words had burst from him on their own free will.

I glanced down at him, surprised. He looked up at me, his round, blue eyes shiny, his eyebrows arched and raised slightly. I furrowed my eyebrows. "It's okay, Gabriel. You were angry. Besides, you're seven--I could have pushed you off of me."

"Then why didn't you? I could have killed you! I didn't want to kill you, I wasn't thinking, but--but you have to understand, I thought you was gonna kill me!"

"Hey, I understand what happened, okay? It was my fault--I should have been honest with you from the beginning, or at least... well, at least not yelled what I had. And I didn't shove you off me because I was surprised. You startled me. But you have nothing to apologize for--like you said, you thought I was going to kill you, and I'm sure you didn't intend to kill me. You just said you didn't want to. It happened, all right? But we've moved on--don't' worry. I'm not mad."

He let out a relieved sigh. "Good."

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know, Gabriel. I just didn't."

He let out another sigh, but it sounded a bit irritated. "You know, I'm not stupid. I hated how Remus talked to me that one time when he was telling me Severus was a spy. I'm not three, you know. I can understand stuff. That's why I like you and Severus, 'cause you guys talk to me like a grown up. You explain things in ways that I understand without making me feel stupid."

"I don't know, I thought Lup--Remus handled that pretty well."

"I guess. But I just think Dumbledore and you two talk to me better. Remus is cool, though. I wanna be a werewolf someday, so I can--well, no, 'cause he can't change when he wants to. I wanna be an anima... animal-mace... animage? I can't 'member what Sirius called it..."

"Animagus?"

"Yeah! An Animagus. And a meta-mage, mate... Meta... Morphs... Metamorphmagus. I wanna be that too. _And_ I want to talk to snakes like Voldemort does, and I want a big snake just like him, like Prince! Will Prince be huge? Oh, and I want to shoot silvery animals from my hands, too. Can muggles learn to do that, too?"

"Er..." For some reason, it took me a second to figure out why he'd asked if muggles could do any of that, then I realized that I had never told him he was a half-blood. Like me. Like Severus. "Uh, no, muggles can't. But, um, not everyone can do that either. You have to be born a metamorphmagus. You also have to be born a parselmouth. But, um, for the animagus bit, well, you can learn that, but it's not easy. In my third year, we learned how to do that, but it's not simple. Takes a lot of hard work. You could ask Sirius about it. He'd know all about it. I mean, if you really wanted to learn."

"But I can't, 'cause I'm a muggle," he said miserably.

"Do--do you want to be a wizard?" I asked. For some reason it seemed surprising he would want to be, considering, well, it wasn't like he had such a good experience with it.

"Well, yeah. Voldemort is so powerful. I wanna be powerful, like him. Dumbledore and Severus and you are powerful, too. I wanna be like that. Only, I won't kill people with my powers. I wanna... Just be cool and awesome like Voldemort and you guys. Plus, I wanna make stuff float. Just 'cause there's one bad wizard doesn't mean they're all bad."

Huh. Well, this'll be much easier. I hadn't even realized he didn't know for some reason. I smiled at him. "Well, Gabriel, this is gon--"

"Can I come to Hogwarts today?" he asked. "I don't wanna go to my school today. I wanna meet your friends. Can I meet Draco? You tell me about him a lot, and so does Severus. Can I meet your friends? And see some of your classes? I promise I'll be good! Dumbledore said I could visit any time I liked, he said I needed to see a different view of the world, and stuff. Please? My school is so boring, and today is Friday so that means it's fun day--it's all recess and games, and so I'm not gonna miss anything important."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Why, do you like learning new things? Is that why you don't mind?" Not wanting to miss learning new things pointed towards Ravenclaw.

"I don't care about learning new things," he admitted with a shrug. He stared into my eyes. "Please, it's just games and parties. You won't mind if I miss that, will you?"

I stared into his eyes, and smiled knowingly. What a little liar. If I hadn't known Occlumency, I might have believed him. Today wasn't a party day. He was just saying that to try and get me to go with him.

"Gabriel, you don't need to lie to come to Hogwarts. Why don't we ask Severus when he gets out of the shower? I'm sure he won't mind you missing one day. If not, though, you might just have to wait until the weekend--that's tomorrow. But you have to remember, Gabriel, that you can't go around telling everyone what really happened--your Severus' half-brother, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he said excitedly. We'd given him some basic rules of the story--also, a few little emergency routines, like if Bellatrix or Lucius or the Dark Lord came over. We tried to get Gabriel not to say his name, but he was stubborn as hell and refused. We decided that since he was a child he didn't understand the importance of his name, we let it slide.

"Okay--now, I'm not promising anything--but _if_ you're allowed to come, this will be the story, okay?" He nodded eagerly. "Your school is doing a... thing, um, some sort of assignment where you have to accompany your guardian to work. You know, like a bring-your-kid-to-work day, and since we've told everybody that Severus is taking care of you, it'll be an easy lie, okay?"

He nodded obediently. "Yeah, okay. So am I gonna just follow Severus around and watch him teach class and stuff, or can I follow you?"

"Er, well... Nobody knows Severus and I are together. So you can't tell anybody that, okay? If they know we're together, Severus could get fired from his job, and I could be expelled."

"And then Severus wouldn't have anything to tell Voldemort and he'd lose his position."

"Precisely." I nodded, brushing his hair from his bright, blue eyes. "So you probably won't get to follow me around, even _if_ you get to go. Remember, Gabriel, you might not be able to go. It's up to Severus."

Gabriel nodded. "Okay, I'm gonna get dressed--er, do I have to wear funny clothes?"

I thought for a moment. "Yes, you do." If someone like Draco saw a little muggle boy following Severus around… Well, then, his cover would be blown. "Sirius gave you some of his old stuff, didn't he?"

"Yep."

So we both waited for a moment or two until Severus came into the room with only a towel on. I was staring openly at him with a lazy grin on my face, staring at his chest. I wondered why Severus didn't just walk around in a towel all the time. I certainly wouldn't mind. Judging by the amusement on his face when he noticed I was staring at him, he wouldn't mind my-- ah… adoration of his chest, either.

"You're up early," he remarked to Gabriel.

"Can I go to Hogwarts with you today?" he asked, standing up off the bed, grinning at him. "Dani says that we can just tell everyone it's bring your kid to work day, and you're my guardian, and I'll even wear robes so I blend, and I won't tell anybody that you and Dani are boyfriend and girlfriend. Dani even came up with that plan so I could go, 'cause she really wants me to, and you wanna make her happy, right?" Well, if that last sentence was him trying to be manipulative, then I didn't know what was.

Severus regarded him with a raised eyebrow, then he looked at me. I shrugged. "Yes, all right. We'll have to talk with that cow Umbridge. You two best get ready, and quickly."

Gabriel pumped his fist in the air and scrambled out of the room, laughing excitedly.

I got up and walked over to him, staring into his eyes to prevent me from ogling his chest some more. "Thanks," I said.

"That's a very clever story you came up with."

I punched his shoulder playfully. "I learn from the best." He smirked haughtily at me, then I reached up and kissed him softly. I pulled away for a moment, the kissed him again, this time deepening the kiss, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, holding his damp, bare chest to mine. His strong arms--damn, I loved those arms--wrapped around my waist.

I heard him moan in my mouth and I could feel the fact he enjoyed our kiss a bit more than usual, judging by the fact I could feel his hardness through the towel pressing against me. That thought only made me hold him closer and want to kiss him more. I brought in his bottom lip and gently nipped it with my teeth.

His mouth found that spot on my neck I loved and he brought my flesh into his mouth. I stifled a moan partially, then ran my hands down his bare back, and he let out a noise that made me throb with want heavily, especially since he bucked a little. I then moved my hands onto his chest, then ran my fingers across his abdomen, down his body, listening to him moan quietly while he bit down gently. My fingers ran along the top of the towel and he thrust a bit forward, and I felt a warming, pleasurable throb, and--

"Ew!" Gabriel shouted suddenly. We both turned and looked at him, an expression of pure horror on his face. "Grown-ups kissing! Gross!"

He cleared his throat and brushed past me, his back facing Gabriel, probably so he would see Severus'… embarrassing condition through the bulge in his towel. I left the room, knowing my cheeks were flushed, and I shut the door behind me.

"Green or red?" he asked, holding them against him. "The red was Sirius's and the green was Regulus' and I usually don't care but I know that you guys have appearances to keep up, but I wasn't sure if you mean clothing appearances or just lies and stuff. Does it matter?"

I smiled, feeling a little embarrassed and stupid for having forgotten Gabriel was going to come back out, and that we'd left the door open.

I touched the robe of my choice. "Wear the green."

* * *

A/N--sorry for the long interval.


	47. Chapter 50

Chapter 50: Innocence

Gabriel was holding onto Severus' hand, standing in front of Umbridge. I stood beside them, though a few feet away, so as to maintain proper student/teacher distance.

"You said you needed to see me, Severus?" she said sweetly, smiling forcibly, almost like she was annoyed but trying not to be.

"Yes. As you are aware, my half-brother has been thrust into my care," he said with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course. That's why you must leave school often, and why Danielle asked you to take her home—since it wasn't taking time out of your schedule."

I let out a sigh. "Well, technically, I asked him because he's my head of house. But at least it doesn't conflict with his schedule."

"You didn't ask me to allow him to see the school, so how can he?"

"Huh?" Gabriel asked.

"There's a reason my mother didn't invite her younger friends over after Gabriel's birth, Headmistress," Severus sneered. "It appears my father's hatred of anything magical did not extend to a pretty woman when he was fighting with my mother."

Even though it was a lie, the dislike in his voice and the scowl on his face was real. It wasn't hard for Severus to pretend to hate his father, considering he really did hate him. Umbridge shook her head, disappointed. "It's such a shame men lose their heads when they come across a younger witch. There was a time marriage actually meant something to a wizard. Hopefully you learned from your father's mistake?" she asked in a sweet tone, batting her eyelashes.

"I would never be unfaithful, if that is what you're asking," he told her with a raised eyebrow.

"And do you have a lucky lady? Lucius speaks so highly of you, I would find it hard for you to be single."

"I doubt your question has any importance in the matter at hand, and I believe you may recall the guidelines—appointed _by_ the ministry—in appropriate employer/employee protocol, and questions that are considered inappropriate?" His ironic tone was not missed by any of us. Thank God. I hope Umbridge was just being curious and not hitting on my boyfriend, otherwise I would have to smack a bitch.

Umbridge bristled slightly, then smiled widely. "Of course. Continue, Snape."

"He goes to a muggle primary school—simply to have him do something whilst I am gone, I assure you—and he has been given an assignment to accompany me with my job. However, I think you can agree that having a child of his age staying in my classroom the entire day would induce boredom, and cause much distraction in each of my classes. However, I have asked Miss Kensith to allow him to accompany her to her classes, seeing as I find that more educational than him staying with me."

"Why her?" she asked curiously, her eyes moving to me and appraising me.

"We are both close friends of the Malfoy family, and as such, I have heard many wonderful things about her. I could not ask Draco, because I would not want to take him from his OWL studies. The Head Boy and Girl are quite busy with their duties as well as NEWT exams at the end of this year, and the prefects for my house are also too busy to be bothered."

Umbridge seemed to be considering it, and was looking between me and Gabriel.

Severus smirked slightly. "Of course, if you feel that Miss Kensith is not capable, I will send Gabriel to school and I can inform Lucius of your distrust in his word."

Umbridge's eyes widened and her mouth took the shape of a small O. "Of course I think she's capable! Goodness!" She giggled and smiled thinly. "Well, go on, I'm sure Gabriel has much to learn today! Hopefully by the time he is a student, he'll be fully acquainted with me and the school! I will inform all of Miss Kensith's professors that she will have a visitor."

Severus gave a small, ironic little bow, then turned on his heel and left the classroom, with the two of us in tow.

* * *

There were many people who thought Professor Grubbly-Plank was a better teacher than Hagrid. So maybe she was, technically. Yes, Grubbly-Plank taught us about the animals she brought in. But she didn't love the class like Hagrid did. She didn't _care_ about the animals like Hagrid did. So maybe Hagrid was a bit extreme. But he treats animals like they have feelings. Grubbly-Plank was nice, yeah, but it just felt like a zoo—like they were just specimens. Of course, I guess she was technically the better teacher, with ministry-approved teachings. But did she take us to see Thestrals, or make us take care of Blast-Ended Skrewts, or let us pet hippogriffs? No. Most of it was book work.

All right, so perhaps Hagrid was dangerous. He did bring a hippogriff that attacked Draco, after all. I know that some of the Gryffindors were upset when Buckbeak was supposed to be executed, but honestly, what did they expect Lucius to do? Besides, Draco made it out to his father like his arm had almost been amputated, and he really milked it for what it was worth, but still. Lucius did what any father would have done for his child. Of course Lucius wanted it put down. Draco had just been petting the damn thing (as I heard it, and everybody agreed) and then he said that he wasn't that bad for an ugly brute or something. Pansy said he crooned it. Draco denies he crooned anything, that he merely said it. Of course, I believed Pansy. Draco did have a soft spot for animals—especially powerful ones. So Draco had insulted it, but it did attack him. I'd heard stories where muggle kids get attacked by dogs and the owners get sued and the dog is put down. Nobody blinks an eye when that happens, do they? But everyone freaks out over the hippogriff. Just because it was Draco Malfoy and nobody really likes him. I mean, I don't like animals being killed ever, it's sad, but still—it makes sense why Lucius wanted it dead. That was a highly dangerous class.

But still, dangerous or not, I liked Hagrid better. It was more... interesting. I learn better, too. I don't give a damn if Grubbly-Plank is better; in my mind, Hagrid was. Personally, I loved this class. At first I didn't like it, not in my third year, but the previous teacher had been too old to really do anything. And when Hagrid first started teaching, I didn't really like it much either, but then when he started getting more comfortable—and when we weren't taking care of boring flobberworms—I found that I loved it.

Maybe I was a bit biased because Hagrid was in the Order. Still, I liked him teaching. If he was capable of doing missions for the Order, then he was more than capable to teach.

Now that Umbridge was Headmistress, it was pretty much certain she was going to fire Hagrid soon, and Professor Grubbly-Plank was going to be teaching us again. Everybody loved being taught by her more. Not a lot of people continued taking Hagrid's class. Just a few people, and so, because not a lot of people continued after OWL exams, we had students from each house in this class, and not many of them. Jasmine was the only other Slytherin there. There were four Hufflepuffs, but they pretty much had to take the class because they couldn't afford to drop it. There were three Gryffindors, and one Ravenclaw. I wondered if they were going to be happy when Hagrid got fired. It made me sad, knowing what was going to happen.

Hopefully the bitch died before then, and Dumbledore could return. Or maybe the Dark Lord could just come out of hiding.

"I was tol' today tha' we got a visitor!" Hagrid boomed happily as he indicated Gabriel.

Gabriel was staring at Hagrid with wide eyes and a big mouth. "You're a giant!" he exclaimed loudly, his voice carrying a bit further than I think any of us expected.

Hagrid shifted uncomfortably and everyone looked at each other just as awkwardly. Being a half-giant wasn't necessarily a good thing. When Rita Skeeter told everyone that Hagrid was a half-giant, everyone had been surprised, although now that I think about it, it was obvious. People tended to look down on half-giants just as much as they looked down on full ones.

"Well, er, half-gian', see . . . But, er, it's no' anythin'—"

"That is so awesome! You get taught by a giant! I wanna go here! Oh my God this is so awesome!" He was squealing with delight and jumping and laughing.

Hagrid beamed and I think I saw him blush, but it was really hard to tell considering his face was mostly covered with hair. "Well—er—yeah, tha's, well... thank ye," he muttered, smiling broadly, his beetle-black eyes glittering happily.

Jasmine chuckled beside me.

"Well, er, 'cause of our li'l visitor, we got a new lesson today, somethin' especially fer him. We're gettin' a unicorn," he informed happily.

We'd only had a unicorn once before, with Grubbly-Plank. She only allowed the girls near it, because it was a younger unicorn so it was more skittish, which I thought unfair. Then again, only virgins could touch it, so I guess it was a bit unfair to bring a unicorn, since it might be a bit embarrassing to be either able or unable to touch it. Some were embarrassed to be virgins, and some were embarrassed to let others know they've had sex.

"Where is it? Is it invisible?" Gabriel asked in awe, looking around with his blue eyes sparkling while he squeezed my hand tightly from excitement.

"Well, er, y'see, er, ya gotta be a virgin to touch it, an'... well, see, ya have a scent, they can smell it if you're not, an', well, they won't let ya touch 'em if you're not, an'... so someone else is bringing it." He cleared his throat.

I almost gagged. Hagrid's had sex? Probably with Madame Maxime. The thought of it almost made me shudder.

"What does that mean, virgin?" Gabriel asked with his brows furrowed.

"It means you haven't had sex," I whispered quietly, looking around. Everybody's expression matched my feelings of awkward disgust at the thought that Hagrid couldn't bring the unicorn. Everyone except Jasmine, who looked a little sullen.

I was busy looking at Jasmine, who was brushing away her black, straight hair from her face, her brown eyes slightly watery. Just as I was starting to feel sorry for her, I heard the three Gryffindors chuckle to themselves and I looked up, noticing that everybody else was hiding smiles and their faces were reddening, some of them snorting to keep themselves from laughing. Even Jasmine cracked a smile.

I turned around and felt myself blush and I cleared my throat quietly.

Severus was leading the pearly white unicorn out of the woods, one hand on its back, him talking quietly to it. His black eyes found us and his face fell. He quickly looked away and tied the unicorn to a stake stuck in the ground. The rope was long and looked silky, and was long enough to give the unicorn room to wander around the area.

"Hi, Severus!" Gabriel greeted, waving enthusiastically.

Severus smiled briefly at him, then left as quickly as possible, his jaw tight and his lips in a thin line, a slight shade of red colouring his cheeks.

When Severus was out of ear-shot, everybody started laughing. Well, not everybody—Hagrid cracked a smile and Jasmine looked mildly amused, and I wasn't laughing and neither was Gabriel. But everybody else was, especially the Gryffindors.

"All righ', all righ', tha's enough now," Hagrid said, lifting his hands in the air. "Tha's his 'alf-brother you're laughin' in fron' of."

Everybody's laughs died away.

Gabriel and I were the first to pet the unicorn. I wouldn't have gone up there normally, since the Dark Lord can't find out that I haven't had sex, however since no one in the class was a Death Eater and seeing as neither of them associated with Death Eaters, there was no harm in proclaiming that I was, in fact, a virgin. Well, other than a Gryffindor boy snickering and calling me something rude behind his hand, not that I cared what he thought.

The Ravenclaw came up and joined me in petting the unicorn, as did two of the Hufflepuffs. Jasmine, the other two Hufflepuffs, and the three Gryffindors did not join us. The two Hufflepuffs looked a little disappointed, and the three Gryffindors made fun of us for being virgins, although they did it quietly.

I left Gabriel to pet the unicorn and I came over and stood beside Jasmine. We didn't talk often, but I felt a little bad, seeing as she looked so depressed about not being able to pet the unicorn.

"Hey, you okay?" I said, feeling awkward.

"I didn't want to do it, and now... I can't even pet the unicorn. It wouldn't bug me so much if I'd wanted to have sex. I wanted to wait, you know?"

"I'm sorry," I said, squeezing her shoulder. "At least those idiot Gryffindors won't make fun of you, I guess."

"Like I care what they think. I dumped Cormac anyway. Just seems so pointless to have something taken away from you just because of something that really wasn't—" She cut off, then looked away form me.

I let out a sigh. "You're right. It doesn't matter what they think. I'm sorry about him pressuring you."

"He didn't pressure me," she mumbled.

"What? But you told me—I mean, it's okay if you wanted it and changed your mind after, like you realized you weren't ready after, that's cool, I'm not mad or anything—I just thought you said he pressured you. I mean, I don't care if you choose to have sex, that's your business."

She let out a long sigh, and I noticed her brown eyes were shining a bit more than they had been. "I know what I said, but I wasn't being entirely honest." I furrowed my eyebrows. Was she ashamed to want sex? "I told him to stop."

I deflated a little bit, and felt a little sick to my stomach. "Oh... I didn't... he forced it?" I whispered quietly, stepping closer so that no one would hear.

"Yeah. I dumped him awhile ago, I just didn't—I didn't tell anyone. I didn't want anyone to know. I feel—I mean, I should've been able to fight him off, but I guess I'm just too weak. But I was screaming, so I know he was lying when he said he didn't hear me." She folded her arms over her chest and stared wistfully at the unicorn, her lips pursed, wetness sliding down her cheeks. "I feel like a slut now."

"You're not. You did nothing wrong," I said, reaching forward and holding her shoulder.

"Yeah, well, I guess it was stupid of me to think... I mean, it's not like we hadn't done other stuff. So maybe I'm in the wrong. Maybe I was being a tease. I'm seventeen, Danielle, I'm not a little girl anymore. I shouldn't be such a bloody prude. But you don't know what it was like... I feel like something dirty is just eating away at my insides, like I constantly want to throw up. And it—it hurt so much... There was blood, I didn't think there would be so much—or that it would ache for so long after... My throat was so sore from screaming."

I didn't know what to say. Her voice was cracking, and I could tell she was obviously hurt by this. Cormac raped her. I mean, I knew he was a bit violent and demanding, sort of intimidating, but he was a Gryffindor! I mean, weren't they supposed to be noble?

"He told everybody, and so I acted like I wanted it. Not to you, though. I told you I felt pressured... I—I think I was trying to give you a hint. When I dumped him, I didn't want anybody to ask questions as to why, 'cause I didn't want them knowing, so I just didn't tell anyone I dumped him. But I wanted you to know."

I was still stunned by this. I couldn't figure out why she was telling me. I was torn between feeling honoured she would trust me with this and wishing that she hadn't said anything at all. I didn't know what to say. "I can go kill him if you like," I said quietly. I honestly think I could kill him without feeling guilty. I'd killed two people before, so I knew I could do it, plus the asshole actually deserved it.

She shook her head. "No. Thanks, though. That's the sort of guy I'm sure You-Know-Who likes anyway—I don't think he would appreciate you killing someone without his permission anyway." She shifted a little bit. "It's nice that you would offer, though. For a Death Eater, you're not so bad."

"Death Eater or not, I still think rape is wrong. No matter who does it; no matter who it's done to."

Jasmine nodded, a small smile on her face. "I'll never understand what anyone sees in that psycho. No offence." I nodded. Of course she had seen my Dark Mark. We were in the same year, and she'd seen me change me clothes before. "Don't tell anyone what he did, okay? I don't want everybody staring at me like some... some victim. I don't want all that attention, all right? I just wanted you to know."

"But—but he needs to be—"

"I told you because I knew you would understand. Remember when everyone was saying you and Snape were, well, together?"

I cringed at the memory. "Er, yeah."

"Well, everyone stared at you like you were disgusting. And you talked to me about it. I was cruel to you. I said—I said that you didn't deserve Snape. And I heard you crying all night after I said that. Besides, you're the only girl I know who... Well, you know how the other girls in Slytherin are. Always going on about how women should do whatever to please their men, that the men hold the power, that women should bow down to them..." She looked downwards and pursed her lips.

"You're the only girl I know, in my year, who isn't... well, old fashioned, I suppose. The only one who has the Dark Mark—the only one who is doing a man's job, as it were. Not a lot of girl Death Eaters, are there? So obviously you're for women empowerment. You're the only one who would look at me and understand that I... I shouldn't have to deal with that. Don't tell anyone, all right? I don't want anyone looking at me the way they... The way I looked at you. I don't want anyone saying what we said about you about me, and I know they will, just to tear me down. Promise me you won't say anything."

Although I really wanted to tell her I had to tell, that I had to get Cormac in trouble, I understood (well, at least a little, I would never understand her fully, seeing as I had never been raped) why she wanted me to be quiet. In my third year, an older girl (she'd graduated by now) had been raped, and everybody called her a slut and said she deserved it, because she flaunted her stuff and if a girl was dating someone she had better give it up for her boyfriend. A lot of them said she wanted it and was just saying she was raped for attention. Only a few girls believed her. I remember I'd told Jasmine that the guy who had raped her deserved to die. I remember Draco hadn't really understood the situation (he'd been twelve at the time) and when I explained it to him, he said he had never felt so disgusted with another Slytherin in his life. Narcissa had taught him how to respect women—that it was their love, not their body, that was the most important. I wished all Slytherins had mothers like Narcissa.

"I promise I won't say a thing," I said, squeezing her shoulder. She nodded.

"I don't understand how they can smell it. Scent really is powerful, isn't it?"

I nodded. "Yeah, it is." I remembered the time at the Yule Ball when those fairies had followed me because of my muggle jasmine-scented perfume. "Did you know fairies are attracted to jasmine perfume?" Yes, I was mostly saying it for a topic change.

She furrowed her eyebrows. "Really?"

"Oh, yeah, wizard stores actually have to do something to the scent so fairies won't follow you. Yeah, they're obsessed. This one time, at the Yule Ball, they were circling me—I was wearing muggle perfume, it's cheaper—and it was really annoying, so . . ."

A thought struck me suddenly.

"I can duplicate my scent," I said aloud. "Here, let me try something..."

Just like Severus did the night of the Yule Ball, I duplicated my scent and charmed it on her, smiling. She stared at me in disbelief. "Do you think it'll work?" she whispered.

"Go on, give it a try."

She walked closer to it, tentatively, and I worried that it might not work... But then she touched its back and started petting it, and a smile broke across her features. I joined her and we continued petting the unicorn the rest of the class period. Jasmine had tears running down her face the entire time, but I don't think they were sad tears.

* * *

I plopped down on the couch in front of the fire tiredly. Gabriel had asked questions about everything, and was so excited he couldn't keep still. In Potions, though, he managed to stay quiet, and watched me brew in silence, his eyes wide, until Severus took him and explained how to teach the class, and had him walk through the classroom with him, looking at potions. Severus explained why each ingredient was important in the potion we were brewing that day, and why we used it, and how it affected the potion. I smiled. Severus and I did that often—talked about the importance of each ingredient, talked about why we used what we did. His knowledge of Potions astounded me. It was so interesting when he spoke about it.

Pansy—who had come down with the flu or something—was nowhere to be seen, so Draco had no qualms whatsoever about sitting beside me. "What's up with the kid? A cousin or something?" he asked.

I smiled briefly at him. "Oh, I'm babysitting for Snape."

"You getting paid?"

"No."

Draco chuckled. "He knows you have a crush on him. You told him, didn't you? He knows you'll do anything for him. You are so easy to manipulate."

"Yeah, I know," I muttered.

"Who's this?" Gabriel asked, running up to me. He'd just been talking to Crabbe and Goyle.

"I'm Draco. Draco Malfoy," he said, extending his hand for Gabriel to shake.

"Oh! Dani talks about you a lot. Severus does too, but only a little. Not like she does."

As Draco shook his head, he gave me a curious look. "I baby sit a lot. Snape has to do rounds, you know."

"You're so pathetic, Dani," he said, shaking his head. "So she talks about me a lot, does she? Does she tell you how good-looking I am?"

"Um, she said you had a good chest, but she doesn't like you like that. She likes someone else." Draco laughed, then smiled at me. I couldn't help but smile too. "But she says you're funny, and that she wishes your parents were her parents, and that you're spoiled and stuff. Once she said you were a bully, and that you're her bestest friend, and she likes you a lot. But only as a friend—don't you get any ideas." Gabriel pursed his lips and folded his arms, giving Draco a very stern look.

Draco just laughed more. "Yeah, I already knew that. She's my best friend too. By the way, Gabriel, bestest isn't a word. Not that I care if you use it."

Gabriel cracked a smile. "Well, you're a lot smarter than those two idiots I was just talking to."

Draco's face fell. "They're my friends, you know."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "So? Just 'cause they're dumb doesn't mean you can't be friends with them. It's a good thing they have you, 'cause you're smart. Without you, I think they'd be pretty much lost. That's what Dani says."

Draco smirked. "You know, I think I really like you. I always knew I was a genius. And I always did think if Crabbe and Goyle were any slower they'd be going backwards."

Gabriel hopped onto the couch with a smile on his face, sitting between me and Draco. "I don't think they're smart enough to walk backwards. They'd probably just stand still. I mean, I'm seven years old and I'm smarter than them! And they were talking about some girl named Pansy and how her bum was really tight or something. Bums are gross. Why do people look at them? That's where poop comes from, you know?"

Draco let out a sigh and rolled his eyes. "Pansy's my girlfriend. I think they fancy her."

"Is Pansy pretty?" Gabriel asked innocently.

Draco paused, then smiled at him. "Looks aren't important. That's not where power lies, and it's not where love lies, either. Of course, it's a nice bonus, but..." He shrugged.

Gabriel turned to me and smiled. "Dani, you've got the coolest friends ever." Draco and I looked at each other with a smile, then Gabriel turned back to Draco. "Guess what? There's a giant who teaches here, and unicorn that will only let virgins touch them. Are you a virgin?"

"Yes," Draco answered.

"You don't have to lie to him, Draco. He understands stuff like this."

Draco raised an eyebrow at me. "Well, I'm not lying." I stared at Draco, a little perplexed. The way the two of them acted certainly made it seem like they had sex. "What? I'm only fifteen, Dani."

"Well, it's just—well, you two sorta... Well, you're very, um... physical."

"So? We do everything else, though. But I think it's coming soon. You know, our first time. I don't know, I can just feel it. Besides, when the hell would we do it? Up in the boys' dorm where everyone can hear? Up in the girls' dorm? I don't think so. Our first time will be private, and it won't be in a closet or a damn abandoned classroom. Just because we do everything else doesn't mean we do that too."

"Oh," I said, feeling really stupid. Here I am, fighting in a war against judgmental people, and here I was, being judgmental.

"And she's completely satisfied with what I do with my tongue and hands. I'm a little better at fingering her, though."

I chuckled. "Yeah, I bet."

"Well, you would know," he said with a shrug.

"Well, you certainly aren't lacking in fingering skills."

Draco smirked smugly. "Only 'cause of your diagram. But you did amazing. Better than her. She says she doesn't like the feel of it, so it's always this hasty, quick little hand job, but you—well, you certainly paid attention to it. She's amazing with her mouth, though."

"Oh, well, I'd never done it before, so I'm glad I didn't do badly."

"You did it perfectly."

Then, we both shut up. This was the first time we'd talked about it. We seemed to realize just what we were saying at the same time, because Draco's cheeks went a little pink, and I found it very hard to look at him at the moment.

"Er... What are you guys talking about?" Gabriel asked slowly. "Are you guys just joking around?"

"Yes, we're just joking around," I said quickly.

There was a moment of silence where I felt a little nauseous, images of that night flashing before my eyes.

Draco cleared his throat. "So, is Snape your dad or what?"

"No, half-brother. We have the same dad."

Draco looked at me curiously, then down at Gabriel. "Are you a mudblood?" he asked, his upper lip curling slightly.

"What? That's stupid. I have normal blood."

Draco scoffed and grabbed Gabriel, then settled him on his lap, so that Gabriel's legs were on either side of him, and they could look each other in the eye. "No, no... so strange, I knew what that was when I was your age..."

I wanted to jerk Gabriel out of his arms and run in the other direction, or at least slap Draco. But I couldn't, not if I wanted to keep my cover. "What is it? Is it something scary?" Gabriel asked.

"It's not scary. A mudblood is someone who is a witch or wizard with muggle parents. You know what a muggle is, I take it."

"Yeah, I'm not stupid."

"All right. Well, do you have muggle parents?"

"Er, my dad is. My dad had sex with his wife's young witch friend. My mum was a witch, but she died, but my dad didn't want to take care of me, so Severus said he would."

"So you're a half-blood, like Severus and Dani?"

"I guess," Gabriel said, sounding a bit bored.

Draco nodded. "Good. Mudbloods are filth. We don't like them, because they go home to their muggle parents and tell them our secrets. It's so strange you don't know this. Muggles don't like witches and wizards. They are afraid of us—we're more powerful, of course. They persecuted us, and actually hunted for us at a time. They used to string us up and hang us, and burn us. They're primitive little cavemen, and we're advanced, see. That's why we have to keep our magic a secret, because they'll kill us. Muggles should stay with muggles, and witches should stay with wizards. But being half-blood is all right. It's being a mudblood that's filthy. How can you expect to learn anything when you live your whole life as a muggle? Magic is something you learn, you can't just be good at it, and so we shouldn't allow people in this school who don't even know what they're doing. They're dangerous, and they don't deserve the power they have."

Gabriel blinked at him. "Isn't that prejudice, though?"

"No, it's not—it's being smart. Gabriel, let me explain something to you... Do you like... er, chips?"

"Um... Like fries? My mum called 'em fries, 'cause that's what they're called in America, and my mum was obsessed with American stuff. Yeah, I love them! She made them homemade, you know."

Draco let out a sigh. "Yes. So you like chips. Do you like... er, cake?"

"I like the frosting," Gabriel said with a shrug.

Draco nodded. "Yes. Well, you like them both, but they don't go together. You can't dip the chip—er, fries—in the cake frosting and eat it, can you? Well, that's a mudblood. They should go be where they belong, and we should stay where we belong."

Gabriel nodded, and I hoped to God Draco hadn't convinced him to be a mudblood-hating pureblood maniac, since his argument did make a little sense. "Um... But I don't want to kill frosting. Doesn't Voldemort want to kill muggles and mudbloods?"

Draco flinched when Gabriel used his name, but he didn't correct him. "You're young, so you don't get it. I used to think killing was a bit extreme, too. But Dani here understands that. She's killed someone before, for the greater good. We deserve to rule above them, if they do live. They're like children, and we're like the adults. But as for killing them? It's mostly mudbloods we want to kill.

"All right, do you throw away food that gets, er, rotten? Um... If your frosting landed on your chips, you'd throw it away, wouldn't you? Those are mudbloods. It's the same thing."

Gabriel nodded. "Oh. Okay. But I'm not a mudblood." I almost flinched when Gabriel said that. "But guess what I really am?"

"What is that?" Draco asked curiously, brushing away some of Gabriel's shaggy brown hair from his eyes, almost irritably, like the fact it covered his eyes bugged him.

"A tickle monster," he said calmly, seriously. Draco looked about ready to ask what the hell he was talking about, but then Gabriel dug his fingers into Draco's side and started tickling him.

Draco bucked and started laughing, trying to push Gabriel off of him. I laughed hysterically. I'd never seen Draco get tickled before, and especially not by a little kid. He threw his head back, then he attacked Gabriel's sides with his fingers, and Gabriel started shrieking with laughter while they both tickled each other. It was one of the funniest things I had ever seen.

They both stopped tickling each other, breathing heavily, grins wide. I was still chuckling though, shaking my head. Draco and Gabriel stared at me, then looked at each other and smirked evilly, then both looked at me again, just as evilly.

"What?" I muttered.

Then they both pounced on me, grabbing my sides, and tickling me. I burst out with laughter, feeling their fingers dig into my sides. Since Draco was larger and the couch was actually quite narrow, he accidentally knock Gabriel onto the floor. Gabriel was still laughing hysterically, though, so I don't think he was hurt.

"You are so evil!" I yelled.

Draco laughed a deep laugh. This was the first time we had actually touched each other without freaking out since the night we got drunk.

Gabriel started doing the weird skipping/stomping thing, pumping his fists into the air, like some sort of tribal dance. "Tick-le mon-ster tick-le mon-ster!" he sang loudly, throwing in random whooping noises. His tribal dance made this even funnier.

I started trying to fight Draco off, unable to stop myself from laughing as he tickled me, and we lost out balance and fell off the couch too. I was on top of him, so now I started tickling him, just under his ribs.

We started wrestling on the ground, chuckling happily, and Gabriel continued doing his odd little tribal dance and song. I tried my hardest to stay on top, but Draco was a bit stronger than I was, so eventually he switched our positions. I thrashed underneath him but he managed to stay on top, growling playfully while I half-chuckled, half-growled back. We were just playing so it wasn't like he was really trying to pin me down, and I was still having a hard time beating him.

He managed to pin my hands on the floor above my head, his chest on my chest, my legs around his waists. "Ha! I win!" he exclaimed.

"Draco wins!" Gabriel exclaimed. "Your soul is mine," he added in a deep, evil-sounding, but somehow still cute voice, then tried to attempt an evil laugh.

Draco chuckled breathily, then he raised one hand to brush my hair away from my face. I frowned at how gentle he was being, and he seemed to realize what he'd done, and cleared his throat before rolling off of me.

"Round two! Fight!" Gabriel shouted.

Draco and I looked at each other, then Draco smirked. He slowly stood, then gave Gabriel a haughty look. "You know what Gabriel? I think it's time we attack you."

Gabriel screamed melodramatically, then took off in the other direction. Draco and I started chasing after him. Crabbe and Goyle—who were the only ones besides Jasmine in the common room—watched us blankly, as if they didn't understand what was going on. Jasmine had a smile on her face and watched us with amusement.

Honestly, I could have caught Gabriel if I had really wanted to, and I know that Draco can run faster, so we were allowing Gabriel to get away. But it was still fun, and I couldn't help but laugh.

* * *

By the time anybody else came into the common room, we had finished playing, and I sat in front of the fire with Gabriel between my legs, who was also facing the fire. Draco sat beside me, legs sticking out while he leaned back, resting on his elbows. I was glad that it had only been Crabbe and Goyle and Jasmine in the common room, because I know that if anyone else had been there, Draco wouldn't have played around. He never played around when others were there who might view it as weak. Crabbe and Goyle didn't count, most of the time, because they were stupid, and followed Draco like puppy dogs.

"What do you think Snape was like when he was a kid?" Draco asked, his brows furrowed.

I shrugged. "I don't know."

"Remember what we were like?"

I chuckled and nodded. "Oh, yeah. I remember, you weren't such a prat like you are now, you little berk." Draco scoffed and rolled his eyes, but I noticed the side of his mouth lifted up. "And I used to be cute."

"But now you're beautiful, so..." Draco said casually.

I smiled. "Thanks, Draco. But if you want me to get you something, all you have to do is ask."

"I mean it," he said, turning to me. I blinked at him. "But, since you mentioned it... You wanna go grab my school bag?"

"Get it yourself, lazy-arse," I retorted with a chuckle.

"Never mind, I'll just fail all my classes 'cause you wouldn't bring it. It'll be all your fault. Selfish."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "It's the weekend, Draco. Don't try to pull that one me. You can do it on Sunday."

"Go on, just go get it."

"No, Draco. I'm comfortable."

"You're too stubborn for your own good."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "Er, yeah, I'm a Slytherin."

"Why not grab your little slaves to do it for you?" Gabriel asked, turning his head to look at Draco, his eyebrows arched, giving him a very innocent expression. "I mean, they do everything for you. You'd be lost without them. I bet you probably couldn't even have sex without them in the room helping you."

Draco glared at Gabriel. "What? I don't rely on them. _They_ rely on _me."_

"Doesn't seem like it to me," Gabriel said with a shrug, then focused back on the fire.

Draco scoffed then stood up. "See? I can do it myself." He then sauntered off with a cocky little smirk on his face.

"You certainly played him like a harp."

"Huh?" Gabriel said, looking up at me in confusion.

I sighed. "Never mind."

The portrait opened and Severus walked in. He eyed all the people in the common room, then smiled a thin smiled at us. "Gabriel, time for us to leave. I believe Miss Kensith has had a tiring day. She needs to go home."

We both stood up and walked over to him, and I saw Draco come out of the boys' dormitory and watch us leave the common room. When the portrait shut behind us, we started down the hall, only for it to open again. I turned around and saw Draco leaving it, securing the bag on his shoulder.

"You're leaving?" Draco asked while he walked up to us. He nodded at Severus in greeting, then stopped right in front of me.

I cleared my throat. "Well, yeah."

He nodded, then jutted his chin out. "Oh. Am I ever gonna see your new house or what?"

"Draco, er... I'm not sure... I mean, compared to your house, it's not anything special."

Draco appeared thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. "I'll see you, then." He moved forward as if to hug me, then hesitated. He stopped, and I knew he felt a little uncomfortable.

I closed the distance between us and wrapped both of my arms around him, hugging him tightly. I pulled away and smiled at him. "I'll see you later."

"I wasn't gonna hug you. You just had something in your hair." He plucked some lint from my hair and stared at me, confused, and I felt a little embarrassed since I'd hugged him when he hadn't been going to hug me. Thinking on it, I don't ever remember hugging him. Well, except for when we made up after two weeks of me ignoring him, or when we were drunk.

"Oh... Um, I'll see you later."

Draco nodded. "Yeah, all right." He smiled briefly at us, then turned around and started back to the common room.

Severus looked at me and one eyebrow quirked upwards. "Can you separate yourself from him, or is the umbilical cord still attached?"

I slapped his arm, but couldn't help but smile a little.

* * *

Gabriel insisted we go to McDonald's for food. So Severus put us all in the car and we went through drive-thru, and now we were walking into Spinner's End. "I'm glad you and Draco are returning to your friendship."

"Yeah, me too," I said.

"What? Did they fight or something? They seemed like they really liked each other. They're best friends."

Severus glanced at me, and I cleared my throat. "Yeah," I answered.

"I like Draco. He reminds me of Sirius, only happier. And, er, Draco isn't very comfortable in his skin. Like, as soon as people show up, he acts different. All I had to do was say he couldn't do something and he had to prove me wrong. He surrounds himself with people who make him feel better about himself, and he sorta has mood swings. I don't know how he expects to be a Death Eater, 'cause it's obvious he doesn't really believe what he says. He just thinks he believes it."

Severus and I glanced at him, surprised. He noticed we were looking at him while he sipped his drink.

"What? I like to study people. Makes it easier to understand them and get them to do stuff you want them too."

"What do you mean, he doesn't really believe what he thinks he does?" I asked.

"Oh, come on. He even said he used to think killing was a bit harsh! Then he brought you up. It bugs him. Then he was all offended when I called it prejudiced. It's obvious he acts a certain way 'cause he thinks he has to. He has to justify what he thinks. That's a defence mechanism. Like trying to justify stealing something 'cause you know it's wrong and you try to make it sound like it's not wrong. Plus, watch this," he said, thrusting his drink, his fries, and his box of McNuggets in my hand.

He hurried into the kitchen and we looked at each other, confused. He was rummaging around in the kitchen, but I don't know what he was looking for. A few minutes later he came out, holding chocolate cake frosting.

He took off the lid and handed the lid to Severus, then took three chips, dipped them each in the chocolate frosting, then handed each of us one. "Eat your fry," he ordered.

We each did. I will admit, it tasted all right. In fact, I really liked it.

Severus shrugged. "It's not horrible tasting. Odd, but not horrible. Is there a point to this?"

"It tastes good. And if you don't like it, you can wipe it off. You don't have to throw it away. Besides, mudbloods are people, not food."

It made sense to me the point he was making.

"We don't say that word. We say muggleborn," Severus informed.

Gabriel nodded. "Okay."

"But, Gabriel, that was analogy. Proving it wrong doesn't prove anything about how Draco thinks," I pointed out.

Gabriel let out a sigh and shook his head. "Dani, you are _so_ naïve."

* * *

A/N--btw, fries dipped in chocolate cake frosting tastes like warm Lucky Charms.

Sorry about the long update, but I got sick.

Also, I am writing an actual real novel, and I got struck with inspiration, so I wrote a lot on that.

Thanks to my lovely beta, Edgar A Poe!

To Druid--I'm sorry for making you worry. I was sick, but I feel much better now.

Okay, this gets a little Lifetime Movie Network-ish, but this goes out to thsoe who have been raped. Something like 1 in 3 girls/women get raped or molested in their liftetime, and something like 1 in 7 boys/men are molested or raped in their lifetime. If you are one of thsoe people, I have nothing but respect for you, for being as strong as you have been to have dealt with that. If you know someone who is being raped or molested, or you are, do not feel afraid to turn the person doing that hateful crime into the police. If you feel that turning that person in will only cause more problems, then know that my prayers are with you, and I wish you the strength to endure. It is not the rape victim's fault, no matter what anybody says.


	48. Chapter 51

Chapter 51: Bad Words

It was all Bellatrix's fault.

I'd been having such a great weekend, too.

I'd even told Gabriel he was a half-blood. I would have thought Christmas had come early, the way he acted. He jumped up and down and screamed and laughed. Seeing him act so excited was amazing. It made me happy. Severus and I had had a wonderful week, a normal week.

Then Bellatrix ruined everything with one word.

Rookwood.

All right, so perhaps it was a sentence.

"When Rookwood told the Dark Lord how to retrieve the prophecy, that's when he listened to Lucius and me."

When_ Rookwood_ told him.

Never mind the fact I spent several hours torturing a man, talking about raping his wife and murdering his child, to get that information. Never mind the fact that it was the very first thing the Dark Lord had asked me to do. Damn him. My previously "okay" Monday was now shite. And because of her, I am in a horrible mood.

"You don't seem very pleased," the Dark Lord said to me, his mouth curling upward. "Fighting with Severus?" he inquired.

"No," I answered honestly. "I've had a trying day at school, is all." I was still on my period, and seeing as I knew the Dark Lord had that disturbing fetish, I was not about to tell him I was fighting with Severus, and therefore give him a reason to forget the claim.

He snarled briefly. "Ah, yes. I remember school."

"You have summoned us, Master?" Bellatrix asked, bowing respectfully.

He looked between us with a smirk. "Ah, yes. As you are both aware, our darling Danielle recently gave me reason to... make her prove her loyalty." I noticed the slight sneer on the word "darling" and how his red eyes gleamed. If he had trusted me before, why had he gone and asked Rookwood how to retrieve the prophecy? Was he going to make me do this anyway, and was he just using my Shakespeare quote as an excuse to make me feel punished? What was he playing at?

"Yes, my lord," I murmured and the same time Bellatrix said it with a gleeful spark in her eye and a vindictive smirk on her face.

"Now, she has proven to me she can kill a child when given free rein, to take as much time as need, be as _creative_ as she needed. She has proven her ability to kill on command in front of me. Now, she must prove how adept she is at killing and torturing in its entirety. Seeing as it is not... prudent for me to join you, Bellatrix shall. Since I am not there, Bellatrix is now in charge. You will do as she says, when she says it."

I nodded, searching my head for the click. "Of course, my lord."

Bellatrix grabbed my arm and smiled an eerily beautiful smile, her dark eyes wide. "I know just the place," she said, then Disapparated.

* * *

I wasn't legally allowed to Apparate. I had finally managed to do it in class last week, after much practice, after _much_ failure, and so I knew I could do it. Not legally, though.

Well, screw the Ministry. They're the ones that dumped Umbridge onto the school. They're the ones telling everybody that the Dark Lord isn't right. They're gonna tell the world some random muggle killed that family.

So, I Apparated into the living room in Spinner's End.

The loud "pop" must've frightened Gabriel because he jumped and shrieked. He stared up at me with his wide, innocent eyes, but it wasn't him I saw. I saw the little muggle boy Bellatrix ordered me to torture for hours, the one she ordered me to slice with S_ectumsempra_, the one she eventually ordered me to kill... I heard his parents' screams and the little boy's screams...

"Dani?" he said, frowning.

I was shaking and my breath was coming in ragged gasps. Flashes of Bellatrix laughing as she tortured, her dark hair falling on either side of her beautiful face, her mad, gleaming eyes... Bodies writhing in blood, tears streaming down their faces... The little boy crying out, screaming in pain... Their blank, dead faces staring at me...

I turned away from him and went into the bathroom immediately, fell to my knees, and vomited into the toilet. Not a few seconds after the first time I retched, Severus was in the bathroom with me, putting a cold, wet rag on the back of my neck, and kneeling beside me. He brushed my hair out of my face and rubbed my back, comforting me as I puked.

_Bellatrix spun and laughed, her dark hair whipping around her while she spread her arms out, spinning happily. The small pool of blood underneath her splashed up, staining her boots while she continued laughing eerily—_

I vomited again and tears ran down my face, hot as fire, the rest of my body cold as ice. My whole body shook as I took in deep gulps of air. Bellatrix was absolutely frightening. What I had done was absolutely frightening.

"_I've shared _my _power with the Dark Lord," she whispered to me as she pointed her wand as the door and it burst open. "I suppose we can't all be as loyal as me. The filthy boy's a mudblood, dear, his power just manifested. I'll leave him to you."_

I dry heaved a few times, then I flushed the toilet. I turned to Severus and he wrapped his arms around me. I buried my face into his robes and willed the thoughts away, willed the images to stop, but they wouldn't.

"She's insane," I rasped through my tears. "Bellatrix... She likes doing it... She's bleeding insane!"

He was running his fingers through my hair and holding me close. "Pay her no mind, Danielle..."

"She—She liked it! And I had—I had to kill a little boy, Severus!" I jerked my head away from his chest and stared into his eyes imploringly. "I killed him! I tortured him and I killed him! Damn it, Severus! Why?" The tears started again and my throat closed up. I quickly turned away from him and stood so he couldn't see my tearstained, pale face, and I pressed my forehead against the cool wall. "He was—he was a mud—muggleborn! Like Lily! How do I know he wasn't going to do something great? I killed him before he could!" I shouted, pounding my fist against the wall beside my head, that sickening, painful twinge in my gut too familiar by now.

I was breathing through my teeth, squeezing my eyes shut, the hot tears burning my face. I waited for Severus to say something, but he didn't.

"What am I supposed to say to God when I die? How the hell can I ever justify doing this? How can I explain to Him? I killed a child, Severus! I tortured him! What will I say to Him?" I shouted, slamming my fist against the wall again. Severus remained silent still, so I turned away from the wall and looked at him. "Well? How can I justify it, Severus? How? Because if I can't find a damn reason, I won't be able to do it again! I can't!"

He looked a little startled at me yelling at him and demanding an answer, almost as if he hadn't been planning on saying anything at all. But I had to know. How could I ever live with myself knowing what I'd done and what I would probably have to do later on? That little boy didn't deserve to die. Nobody in that family did. Penelope Clearwater didn't, either. Even my mum, who probably did deserve it... I would have taken her death back if I could.

"In order... To keep your cover, you had to. To pass information. To win the war and prevent other deaths," he answered warily, as if afraid what he said would make me yell at him or something. I was yelling, but I wasn't yelling at him. I didn't know if I could handle this anymore. The click would come during... But it was afterwards I was afraid I couldn't do anymore. I didn't like having to go to the click—I didn't like making myself emotionless. It made me feel...

Empty.

"Danielle, you must, in order to keep his trust, so—"

"His trust! You mean, the trust he doesn't even have in me? If he trusted me so damn much, then why would he have to go ask Rookwood to tell him something I already told him? Rookwood! What am I, chopped liver? I tortured a man for that information for no reason! What the hell am I here for if he doesn't even trust me?"

"They told you?" he inquired quietly, looking crestfallen.

And I realized Severus had known about Rookwood.

"You knew? You knew about Rookwood?" I demanded, feeling my chest tighten and my throat dry. I could barely see Severus through my tears.

"Potter... dreamt about him," he revealed as his eyes moved away from mine for a moment, looking at something other than me.

I let out a frustrated yell and turned away from Severus, punching the wall again. My fist was probably going to hurt later, but I really didn't care. "Why? Why doesn't he trust me?"

"You spoke to Potter, and quoted Shakespeare. He had to make sure you hadn't lied to him."

Because of me. Once again, it was _my_ fault.

I let out a long, broken sigh, then start sobbing quietly against the wall. Finally I felt Severus' hand on my back, and I turned towards him, clutching the front of his robes and cried into the fabric. "God, Severus, everything I touch gets ruined... I bollix up everything... Because of me... everything..."

He ran his fingers through my hair and rubbed my back while I cried into his chest, Bellatrix's laughs echoing through my head, as were the screams... No wonder the Dark Lord seemed to favour her; she was as psychotic as he was...

"Let's get you to bed," he murmured into my hair.

I nodded and he held my wrist, leading me to his bed; the bed we had shared each night, ever since he'd shown me his memory. We stood in the room looking at each other for a moment, then he brushed away my hair before he left the room.

I shakily changed into my nightdress, and turned around to see Gabriel stepping into the room warily. I cleared my throat and wiped my tears away, pasting on a smile. "Oh, hey, Gabriel... Sorry about not saying hi, I had to puke."

"I'm sorry you had to kill today," he mumbled awkwardly. "You was gone a long time. Severus was gonna send me to bed soon. But... I'm sorry."

I nodded and tucked my hair behind my ear. "Thank you," I murmured, not sure what else to say.

He nodded as well. "Severus is good at gobstones. He taught me it today. Maybe it'll cheer you up."

He let out a small, breathy laugh, but it was humourless. "Yeah, maybe."

He stood in the doorframe for a moment longer, then furrowed his eyebrows. "In school, we learned about WWII. There was these guys, and they were like spies, and listened to conversations. They knew the code for the enemies. So they figured out when they were going to attack a town. Thing was, though, that if they saved every town, then the enemy would know someone knew the code, and then they would change it. So they would have to pick which people could live. That's what you guys do. They're heroes, and so are you. One day, you and Severus will be in history books and stuff—but in Hogwarts." He nodded a few times, then scowled a little. "And I'll be bored then, too."

I couldn't help but laugh a little bit. "God, Gabriel, you're so funny, and you don't even know it."

He shrugged. "It happens, I guess. Anyway, sorry about the mudblood kid." He opened his mouth to say something else, then nodded, and left the room, shutting the door behind himself.

Severus entered the room not a second after Gabriel left, and he was holding a vial of Dreamless Sleep Potion. I don't know whether he heard what Gabriel said or not.

"Drink this," he ordered quietly while he put the vial into my hands. I downed it and crawled into bed. He crawled in with me, and I put my head on his chest, listening to his heart beat and feeling his chest rise and lower with breath.

"It'll be worth it in the end, Danielle," he promised. I could feel the vibrations of his voice through his chest while he threaded his fingers through my hair.

I closed my eyes, thinking of how Bellatrix's voice had sounded and how her lips had moved around the name Rookwood. I thought of the screams and the lifeless eyes. I thought of her spinning and how the crimson blood had splashed up onto her pale face, and how it hadn't bothered her one bit. I thought of how it had felt to push the boy's limp body aside with my toe and act like it didn't bother me.

_Bellatrix grabbed my face with both of her hands, smiling widely, her eyes bright. "You did perfectly, Dani! You and I are going to be _very_ close!" She gave my cheek a gentle, quick, but friendly, slap. "We'll show those men who the _better_ Death Eaters are!" She then leaned down and kissed me, the coppery taste of the blood that was smeared on her mouth unpleasant. It wasn't a kiss I'd give Severus, but it wasn't one I would have ever given my mother either. She pulled away and went on her way, grinning, and I wondered if she had realized what she'd just done, or if it even meant anything._

"How do you know that?" I asked, willing those images to go away.

"Because it has to be."

* * *

Stupid Umbridge.

She'd asked Severus to do the rounds that night, and told him that I could baby sit Gabriel since he had to stay the night at the school. While I was there, I was supposed to do Inquisitorial Squad stuff—which was actually just doing rounds, but instead of during the night, I did it during the day.

So I was walking around the school after dinner with Gabriel, heading towards the dungeons. We wanted to say, "hi" to Severus before we went to the common room—Gabriel was spending the night at the school. It would feel strange, sleeping somewhere other than with Severus. Technically, Umbridge said I would have to watch him until Severus was done with the rounds, and then he would come pick up Gabriel and they would sleep in his quarters. I wondered if Severus felt the same.

Severus had used his Floo—since he'd had Umbridge's permission—something Gabriel was very happy about. He didn't like Apparation all too much.

"I'm so glad I'm a half-blood, so I can do that when I'm older. I like using the Floo. The fire changes colour, sorta like when you put in a newspaper that had a lotta ink on it, and the flame changes, but only a little bit, but with the Floo powder, it changes a lot. I wish it would turn blue, though. Blue and black are my favourite colours."

"You still have some ash on your shoulder," I said, stopping him, while I brushed it off.

Gabriel looked down and sigh. "First thing I'm gonna do when I am a powerful wizard is change the dress code. We will wear normal clothes, if we want to. No more of this robes crap. I look like a little girl." Gabriel, apparently, still didn't like robes.

I just half-scoffed, half-laughed while I shook my head. "Okay, Gabriel. Come on, let's go." I turned and started walking off again, but bumped right into somebody who wasn't paying attention because she was reading a book. "Oh, sorry about that, er..." I muttered, getting a look at who I'd rammed into.

"Are you going to take points too?" Hermione Granger asked. I couldn't tell if she was annoyed or if it was a genuine question. I understood her question, though. Draco took points from her and her little pals as much as he could.

"Er, no. It was an accident. Sorry, Hermione." I cleared my throat and shifted uncomfortably. I'd just killed a mudblood a few days ago. It was slightly unnerving standing in front of one now.

"Hermione Granger? Oh, you're that text book reciting know-it-all!"

Hermione looked at Gabriel with shock and confusion, then looked at me, as if asking me to explain. "Er, it's... er, Snape's half-brother. He takes care of him."

"Oh, well that makes sense then."

"You're a mudblood!" he stated happily.

"Er, Gabriel, we don't say—" I began, pulling him towards me and smiling nervously at Hermione, clamping my hand over Gabriel's mouth, although the damage had been done.

She raised her eyebrows at me questioningly.

Gabriel shoved my hand from his mouth and stepped forward, apparently not getting it. "That is so awesome! I mean, growing up without even knowing you can make stuff float and then finding out you can! That is so cool! I bet you clean your room with your wand, huh? I bet you're like 'hah, mum, look what I can do' and she's like 'clean your room' and you're like 'yeah, okay, 'cause now I can use my super-cool mudblood powers and you can't' and she just shakes her head and says 'oh, honey, you're just so cute' and taps her foot and waves her finger—you know, like how mums do that thing they do. You know, I didn't even know I was a half-blood until just awhile ago, so I kinda feel like that sometimes—you know, like I didn't know I was magic and then finding out. It's cool. Severus told me. He's cool."

Hermione was looking at him strangely, as if she wasn't quite sure what to make of him.

"He—He doesn't know it's a bad word," I mumbled awkwardly.

"What?" Gabriel mumbled, looking at me.

"I just figured you taught it to him, you know, since you're..." She looked at Gabriel, then mouthed "a Death Eater" as if she was saying a bad word herself. Obviously she thought I hadn't told him.

"Well, you know... It's like the F word or the B word or whatever. I mean, we say those words, but kids shouldn't. I mean, I didn't mean for him to pick it up." I cleared my throat. "Wait, er... Why are you talking about me saying stuff around him? He's not my kid. Severus takes care of him."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at me. "Well, I just assumed he picked it up from you. You're baby sitting him, after all. All the prefects were told why, of course. Kids pick up things, even if it's not from their guardians."

"What's a bad word?" Gabriel finally asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

I let out a small groan. "Sorry again," I grumbled.

"Don't be. He didn't know." She went to walk off, but then she turned back around. "Why did it bother you? I mean, you're the type of person who says it, I'm sure. Would you want him to?"

"He's not my kid," I repeated. "Besides, it's not like that's the sort of thing you flaunt around here."

She nodded again. "I imagine so. You can't keep his return a secret if you flaunt he's back, can you?" All right, now she was definitely snippy.

I remained silent, and she walked away, opening her book and reading through something. I recognized the book—it was on Occlumency. Why would she be interested? Precious Potter hadn't had lessons for a week now.

"What's a bad word?" Gabriel asked again, more firmly.

I blinked out of my thoughts, feeling guilty again, then turned to face him. "Mudblood."

"But why? That's what they are. It makes sense. Half-_blood,_ pure_blood,_ mud_blood._ They shouldn't be ashamed of it."

"Look, we just say muggleborn, all right?"

"But why? It's just a word, Dani. They're all just words to express yourself. My mum used to let me say shit and bitch all the time and hell and damn." I cleared my throat. She had been a teenager when she'd given birth to him, so maybe that was why she didn't mind him saying those swear words—it was like talking to one of her friends that way. But I doubted she would let him say that if she knew what it was.

"Yes, but... it's still offensive."

"But why? It's not a bad thing."

How could I explain this to him? Severus had told him to say muggleborn before, but obviously he had forgotten or didn't care because he didn't understand. How could he? I said it. It was part of my vocabulary. I didn't want it to be. I tried not to say it at the house. But it slipped, and every time Severus would flinch and tell me to watch my language and I'd apologize.

I knelt before him, looking up at him. I wanted him to understand. I didn't want him to think I was mad at him. For some reason, it felt like he would think I was angry at him if I was staring down at him, instead of up. "All right. You... Have you learned about, um... slavery at all?"

"Yeah. It was wrong, and disgusting, and horrible. Nobody should ever treat anybody that way, no matter the colour of their skin."

"Precisely. Well... there's a word, you see... a word that, well... isn't very nice, that people used to say towards black people—a word that should never have been invented."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "Huh?"

I let out a small groan. I remembered an incident in my second year, when someone called Blaise (who was a first year) That Word, and he'd gone ape shit. Understandably. I slowly leaned forward and whispered the N word into his ear, feeling a bad taste in my mouth—the same bad taste I used to get when saying mudblood.

Gabriel gasped and jerked away from me, his eyes shining. "I didn't know! I didn't know that was what that word was like! I'm sorry!" He had tears swimming in his eyes and he looked thoroughly upset.

"It's all right, Gabriel, you didn't know, we just won't say it again, will we?"

"It's not okay!" he snapped, then tore off down the hallway.

I swore under my breath and took off after him. We'd only run for about a few moments when Gabriel practically leapt into Hermione's chest. She dropped her book and wrapped her arms around him, probably more out of instinct than anything. "What-?" she managed to get out.

"I didn't mean it! I didn't mean it! I'm sorry! She just told me what it meant—I thought it was a good thing—you shouldn't feel ashamed—" he babbled.

I slowed to a stop and watched as she sat him down on the ground, looking torn between amused and puzzled. "It's all right, you didn't know. I'm angry at _you,"_ she added with the slight stress, glaring at me for just a split second.

"It's a good thing. Lily was a muggleborn, too. And she was an amazing girl," he said, as if trying to explain it to her although I was sure he'd made his point.

I grabbed Gabriel's arm and smiled at her nervously. She looked between us. "Why does he know about Lily? Does Professor Snape talk about her?"

Oh, boy. Severus would _kill_ me if it ever got back to Harry Potter that the professor he hated the most had been in love with his mother. "Well, I told him who I was related to. He already knows a bit of the history, what with... Professor Snape telling him. He'd heard Harry Potter's name somewhere. In the paper, I imagine."

Hermione nodded, and I noticed her pursed lips. "And you told him she was an amazing girl? I somehow doubt it." But there was a spark in her eye, as if she was hoping—as if she thought, perhaps, I wasn't as bad as she thought.

And I realized my mistake. I should have let Gabriel continued saying it. I should have insulted her, too. I had my cover to keep up, didn't I? My actions could have been disastrous. What if she told her famous best friend and it got around what I'd done? I always bollixed things up with my actions, and Severus was always around to fix it. Well, he wouldn't this time. He shouldn't always have to deal with my mistakes.

I couldn't tell her off, although I wanted to, because of her accusation. I couldn't tell her what I really said about Lily Evans. I couldn't tell her what Severus said about her, either. It killed me. "Of course not. I would never speak highly of that filth. He came to the conclusion himself. Lily Evans was nothing more than a silly girl who stuck her nose where it didn't belong. In _our_ world."

She let out a scoff and shook her head. "I bet you can't stand being related to her."

"As far as I'm concerned, I'm not," I stated with a raised eyebrow.

Just saying that made my stomach churn with disgust. I felt dirty. I respected Lily so much and here I was, insulting her. This spy thing better pay off. The rewards better be damn good, if I have to live with the guilt of saying what I'd just said, of doing what I had done not only a few days ago.

Hermione looked at me, and I saw an emotion flicker across her face, as if she had just had an interesting thought. She looked me over, and her mildly offended face melted slightly. She made a small humming sound, then bent down and picked up her book on Occlumency, and walked off. I had blocked my mind of course, so even if she was good at Occlumency, she would believe me.

We continued walking towards Severus' office. I felt guilt piling in my stomach and chest. Gabriel was quiet beside me. He had learned to be quiet whenever I was saying something "Death Eater-like" because he was afraid of spilling the beans, as it were.

"We're not going to tell Severus what just happened, all right?" Had I been a Gryffindor, I imagine I would have said that to spare Severus from hearing those horrible things about his loved one, or because I was being noble by not bragging by how well I'd handled the situation. A Hufflepuff? Out of loyalty to my boyfriend by trying to keep him happy. A Ravenclaw—well, because it was smart not to talk about it and get into an argument or whatever.

But I said it simply because I didn't want him looking at me the way I know he would look at me. I didn't want him finding out. I was doing it for myself. Why? Because I'm a Slytherin.

I hate myself sometimes.

"Okay, I won't say anything," he promised. I nodded. "Are you okay? You seem a little sad. I know you didn't want to say that stuff."

"It's all right, Gabriel, I'm fine," I lied, and I was sure he knew I was lying too, but I didn't care.

"Are you sure?" he inquired in disbelief.

I nodded and smiled nonchalantly at him, shrugging, although I felt anything but nonchalant. "They're just words."

* * *

A/N--Happy belated MLK Jr. Day!

I have just found out that Draco Malfoy married Astoria Greengrass. I'm probably the last to know. Anyway, just in case you didn't know, I have now just informed you. Let's all give them some congrats. Little Scorpius is two right now. Aw.

I heard some very sad news today. Heath Ledger died today. I am quite saddened by this. I hate it when people die. He was a good actor, and I presume a good man. Whether or not he was a good man (how can we know? We don't know him personally, after all. Well, maybe some of you do, I don't) I hope his family does okay. I liked him.


	49. Chapter 52

Chapter 52: Hold Onto

Jasmine and I were sitting at a table, along with Astoria Greengrass, who was Daphne Greengrass' little sister. Normally I'd be sitting by myself, but Jasmine called me over. Astoria was a fourth year, and while she was not as pretty as Daphne, she was a more interesting person. So I hear. I don't really hang out with people very much. "I'm certainly glad we got OWL exams over with. I didn't enjoy them too much," Jasmine said with a smirk.

I scoffed and nodded. "Yeah, no kidding."

"I still have to take them next year," mumbled Astoria, putting her hands behind her head, her dirty blonde hair falling over her hands.

"Word to the wise? Study. I never study, and I studied for the OWL exams. Trust me, you're going to need it. I only got A's in Transfiguration and History of Magic because I studied. I would have gotten a T if I hadn't. I got E's in everything else though--except Potions and Defence. I got O's in those. Once again, only because I studied my arse off."

"I wish I'd studied more. I only got one O, in Potions. I actually got a P in Transfiguration, and a D in Divination and History. Still, though, I got to take all the classes I cared about. I should've paid more attention to my studies instead of boys."

I chuckled and nodded. Jasmine was pretty, and a bit popular with the boys. Although she hadn't been with anyone lately, in fact she hadn't really seemed too talkative with any guys—which was understandable.

Astoria frowned. "At least you can get boys. Nobody even looks at me. Not with Daphne prancing about, anyway." She scowled, her dull blue eyes narrowed.

"Being pretty isn't everything," Jasmine said, her tone somewhat melancholic.

"Says the pretty girl," Astoria grumbled.

"So I would know." The interesting thing about Jasmine was that she knew she was pretty. She didn't deny it. In fact, she used it, as if it were a talent. Many people think that if someone acknowledges the fact that she's pretty, that she must be conceited. I don't think Jasmine is conceited at all—she just knows her strengths, and uses them. Well, she did use them, until Cormac used her. "I just wish sometimes people would look at me as someone other than a pretty face. Everybody just assumes that, because I'm attractive, that I _must_ put out. That's all they're interested in. I should've listened to my brother."

"You have a brother?" I asked, a bit stunned.

"Yeah. He's a Hufflepuff."

Astoria scoffed and shook her head. "Don't tell Draco. He hates Hufflepuffs." All three of us laughed. It was true. Astoria scowled. "I hate that prat."

I bristled slightly, although I knew it was true. I must have looked annoyed because they both looked at me with raised eyebrows. "She's right, Danielle. Draco is a bit of a prat."

I folded my arms across my chest. "Yeah, well... He's the closest thing I have to a brother, so..." Astoria seemed a bit frustrated, but she kept her mouth shut, although she looked about ready to burst. I don't think Astoria likes Draco very much. Maybe she had her reasons, but he was still my best friend, so naturally it offended me.

"Well... Yeah, my brother's in Hufflepuff."

"Older or younger?" I asked, ignoring how Astoria looked a bit annoyed and like she was left out of the conversation. Well, she was two years below us—so it wasn't like we talked to her very much.

"Technically older, but we're twins, so..." She shrugged, then tossed her black, shiny hair over her shoulder. "We've got good genes."

"Twins? And he got into Hufflepuff? Weird."

"What? He's loyal and patient and hard-working. I have those traits too. You gotta in order to get things done. The Hat took his time Sorting me, and I just asked for Slytherin. He must have asked for Hufflepuff."

Astoria tilted her head to the side. "Why pick Hufflepuff?"

"Because it would annoy my parents."

All three of us laughed again, and then the portrait door slammed open. It was Draco, who was laughing hysterically as he came in, walking over to me purposefully. He was trying to talk, but I couldn't understand a word of what he was saying through his laughter. His cheeks were pink and his grey eyes were sparkling. Him laughing only made us laugh even harder, which I assume made him laugh harder since he bent over like his muscles were weak, leaning on the table.

Astoria was the first to stop laughing, and she was looking at Draco with a very curious expression on her face, as if she was seeing Draco for the very first time. After that I slowly stopped laughing, although I was still smiling. Draco was still trying to talk, but every time he tried to talk he'd start laughing again. By the time Jasmine stopped laughing we were all waiting for Draco to explain. Crabbe and Goyle were behind him with idiotic grins on their faces, but they weren't laughing.

Finally he took in a deep breath and looked at me, shaking his head. "Dani, you will not believe what just happened in the History of Magic OWL exam."

"Something funny, I wager," I said with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah. Potter had a fit!"

"Huh?"

"Well, it was quiet, and boring, like normal, when all of a sudden, he started thrashing about and screaming hysterically! He fell out of his chair; it was so damn funny. I had to be quiet otherwise I'd get kicked out, but the whole time I wanted to laugh. It just made it funnier, not being able to laugh. Wish you coulda been there."

I found myself laughing again. I would have loved to see precious, composed, perfect Potter screaming like a baby and thrashing around on the ground.

"Why do you think he did that?" Astoria asked, still looking at Draco as if he'd done something extremely odd.

He looked at Astoria, and he reeled a bit--as if he'd just noticed she was there. "Oh, hello, Astoria," he greeted, still grinning with mirth. Apparently he _had_ just realized she was there. "I don't know. It isn't the first time, though. Remember last year? It was all over the _Daily Prophet_--he did it during Divination or something." He made his mouth slack and rolled his eyes back, flinging his arms about while he made funny, deep noises in the back of his throat, and the noises sounded suspiciously like 'crazy' repeated over and over. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I'd wager within a few months he'll be locked up in St. Mungo's. I would pay to see that again."

"Maybe... Maybe it means something?" Astoria said, furrowing her brows thoughtfully. We all looked at her, confused. "Well, I mean, it happened before—last year. Then Cedric Diggory died. You don't suppose... I mean, I think everyone here knows the Dark Lord is really back. I mean, what if he's got... A touch of the Sight or something? I don't think it's really that funny, considering last time someone died."

Draco scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Lighten up, Astoria. What could he have possibly been screaming about? The damn test was boring enough—the prat probably just fell asleep and had a nightmare! And who cares about Cedric Diggory? He was just some stupid Hufflepuff."

"Draco, death isn't ever funny," Astoria said, narrowing her eyes a bit.

"Sure it is. Just ask Dani here. Out of everyone here, I think she's the only one whose actually killed someone."

They all turned to me expectantly. I could have smacked Draco, expect for he actually looked interested—maybe even hopeful. Why would he look hopeful? I was more concerned about what Astoria had said—Severus hadn't been teaching Harry Potter Occlumency for no reason. I shrugged. "Sometimes, I guess. It's certainly entertaining."

"That's sick," Astoria snapped.

"And I'm a Death Eater, so what the hell do you expect?" I snapped right back. I really didn't need her pointing out the truth to me, seeing as I tried not to think about it. It was much easier to pretend to be a Death Eater, easier to deal with life, if I could pretend I didn't' care. It was harder to keep my emotions at bay when someone was saying what I really thought.

"I wouldn't say anti-Death Eater stuff if I were you, Astoria," Draco said, checking his fingernails in a bored manner.

She rolled her eyes. "And what are you going to do? Curse me?"

"Your sister might. She and Pansy are seriously considering becoming Death Eaters. Daphne is, um, a bit volatile. She might hurt you." He was still checking his fingernails, but I heard a note of concern in his voice. Did the thought of another Slytherin possibly dying because of our master bother him? Or was it the fact that someone would hurt a family member for the Dark Lord? He was close with his family, so it was understandable.

Astoria seemed to catch the note of concern too, even though it was obvious Draco was trying his hardest to sound nonchalant.

I was still thinking on what Harry's little screaming fit could possibly mean.

There were four chairs at the table we were sitting at, so Draco grabbed the only available one—the chair between Astoria and me. Crabbe and Goyle stood directly behind him, looking like two body guards, just as they usually did. "So what were you three gossiping about before I came in? Me and my charming good looks?" He flashed a cocky grin at us—the same grin Sirius had. The same grin Bellatrix had.

"Actually, we were talking about my twin brother."

"You have a brother?"

"He's in Hufflepuff."

Draco let out a short, quick laugh and shook his head. "I feel sorry for you. Can you imagine being in Hufflepuff? I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Hibiscus did it to annoy our parents. If you knew him, it makes a lot of sense," Jasmine defended.

"Hibiscus? What the hell?" Draco muttered.

"Obviously my parents like flower," Jasmine mumbled.

Astoria scoffed and rolled her dull, blue eyes. "As if your name is so much better."

"I was named after a constellation, thank you very much," Draco drawled, scowling at her.

"You're not even a dragon! You're a monkey in the Chinese zodiac, and a damn Gemini in ours! It doesn't make any sense! At least I was named after something sensible, like the town my dad was born in."

"Yeah, and like that make much more sense."

She tossed her dirty blonde hair over her shoulder, its shade very close to Gabriel's. "Makes more sense than being named after a constellation that has nothing to do with you."

"I'll have you know, _Astoria,_ that the dragon is the king of the Chinese zodiac--the leader! So it makes perfect sense. Who cares if I'm a Gemini and a monkey? If I recall, you weren't named after the town _you_ were born in."

"Well, yeah! Whoever heard of a girl named London?"

"Whoever heard of a boy named Gemini?

"They could have named you Castor or Pollux. They are the two brightest stars in the constellation."

For a moment I was stunned at her knowledge. Apparently, so was Draco and Jasmine. She smirked smugly at us. "I pay attention in astronomy. I like that class—it helps with Divination. Reading the stars is the only thing I'm good at in that class, but it gives me passing grades, so... I know a bit about astrology. You're a Leo, am I right?" she said, smirking at me.

"Er... Yeah."

"Brash, impulsive... dead giveaway. You're actually quite generous for a Slytherin. Surprised you didn't make it in Gryffindor, though—Leos usually do. Look at Harry Potter, for example. But, you know, the arrogance and leadership qualities could make you into a Slytherin under right circumstances. And look at Draco, classic Gemini—two-faced, show-off, liar, obnoxious prat..." She trailed off, glaring at Draco, her blue eyes sparkling in a familiar way . . .

"And what are you, then? The astrological sign for bitch?" Draco retaliated.

She scowled. "Sorta. I'm a Scorpio. So naturally you can see why my parents didn't name me after my constellation."

"Why is that?" Jasmine asked, her head tilting to the side.

Astoria looked at as if she'd asked an extremely stupid question. "Because I'm a girl. They were gonna name me Scorpius if I was a boy, when they found out I was going to be a Scorpio." She shrugged, then pouted a little, looking a bit more familiar. That pout... Where had I seen it before...?

Her eyes slid over to Draco and she looked at him expectantly. He caught her stare, then furrowed his eyebrows. "What are you looking at me like that for?"

"Aren't you going to go on and insult that name too?"

He shrugged. "What, Scorpius? No." We all stared at him, surprised. It wasn't like Draco to pass up a chance to insult somebody. "What? I actually like that name."

Huh.

"So... Er, where is Astoria? You said you were named after the town your dad was born in?"

"It's a port in Oregon. He's American."

"Yeah, Daphne mentioned that," Draco said.

"She's daddy's little girl. She always gets to go with him when he visits," Astoria scoffed, and rolled her eyes, scowling in a way that reminded me of Gabriel.

I suddenly remembered Gabriel. I glanced up at the clock—it was three-thirty! "Oh, damnit," I snapped, standing up quickly and slinging my school bag over my shoulder. "I've gotta get home, I forgot. I'd better go find Snape."

"Maybe you should ask him if Gabriel can stay tonight," Draco suggested, casually checking his fingernails again. We all looked at him, surprised. He glanced at us, then forced a look of indifference on his face. "What? I like children. I've always wanted one."

Astoria let out an amused scoff and rolled her eyes, but I noticed she had a small lift on the side of her mouth.

There was a faint pop, and a house elf appeared in front of me. Well, not just any house elf. I knew that the letter must've been from Umbridge--she wasn't very fond of house elves, and I think this was some sort of sick joke on her part, or some sort of punishment.

"Hey, Dobby," I greeted, noticing that Draco turned in his chair to scowl at him. Dobby was purposely looking away from him.

"Dobby is bringing you and Master Malfoy and Crabbe and Goyle a letter, sirs and miss." He thrust an envelope into my hand, then turned around, handed Crabbe and Goyle their letters, and held the envelope out for Draco. Draco jerked it from his old house elf then turned away pointedly, and Dobby disappeared with a pop, quite eager to leave, I imagine.

I opened the letter and read through it quickly.

"Stupid bloody Potter!" I shouted, tossing the note to the floor. "Doesn't that idiot realize Umbridge put Stealth Sensors in her office? How thick is he? Dammit!" I stamped my foot in frustration. Everybody looked at me in surprise. "Well, then, I'll just have to pass. Draco, tell her I've got to get home and take care of things."

"It's urgent, Dani. You know you can't miss something urgent."

I growled. Umbridge had said that nothing short of rebellion would be urgent, and if I didn't go, then it would be obvious something was up with me. I had to do it. Although I was sorely tempted to just tell him to tell Umbridge she could go to hell, I ground my teeth. "You're right. I'll catch up. I have to do something quickly before I leave, all right? Tell her I'll be on my way."

"I'll just wait with you."

I waited for a moment. "Well, I was supposed to baby-sit Gabriel today, until Snape was done with, er, school stuff."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You're so pathetic, Dani. You've got to realize he's taking advantage of your crush on him."

"You have a crush on Snape?" Jasmine asked, smiling widely. Astoria was giggling.

"Dammit, Draco!" I snapped, and he just smirked at me. "And for your information, the allowance your dad gives me is more than enough. I don't need him to pay me. So, if you'll excuse me, I have to let Gabriel know I'm not coming home. To his home." I hoped my little slip of tongue wasn't too obvious. Nobody seemed to notice it.

I strode over to the fireplace and threw in some Floo powder, sticking in my head. It was quite uncomfortable, sticking my head into the fireplace. I looked into the empty living room of Spinner's End for a moment, afraid that I was going to have to be in that uncomfortable position for awhile, when the door opened and Gabriel walked in.

"Gabriel!"

He jumped and dropped his backpack on the floor. He turned to me sharply, his light brown, almost dirty blonde, hair whipping around his head, his bright, blue eyes wide. He had the same shade of eyes as Astoria. Whose father was American. Please, let that just be a coincidence. At any rate, I had more important matters to think about than what that could possibly mean.

"What? You scared me!" he exclaimed.

"You need to go to your uncle's house," I said, putting a delicate stress on uncle and widening my eyes a bit. "Use the Floo."

"My uncle? Dani, what—" His eyes widened a bit more. "Oh, okay. Does Severus know you're not coming?"

"He will. I'll see you when I can. Be careful with the Floo and the fire, okay?" He nodded once, and I pulled my head out of the fireplace, coughing as bit as some ash fell into my mouth.

* * *

We burst into Umbridge's office, all of our captives gagged. Draco was leaning against the windowsill, holding a wand that wasn't his. Millicent Bulstrode was pushing Hermione against the wall, who was struggling vainly. I glared at Millicent although I was sure she didn't see it. I hated her. I still wasn't over the fact she Vanished my clothing.

I was holding onto Ginny Weasley, who was in Astoria's year. Being as I was two years ahead of her, I was a bit bigger than she was. Actually, she was quite small. Was I this small when I was a fourth year? Well, she was certainly putting up a damn good fight, thrashing about, trying to stamp on my foot. Her red hair almost matched mine in intensity. I wondered if Severus ever looked at her and thought of Lily... No, Ginny's eyes were brown. Surely red hair wasn't enough...?

Warrington shoved Ginny's brother into the room roughly. "Got 'em all. _That_ one tried to stop me from taking _her_, so I brought him along too." I was busy holding onto Ginny and trying to keep her steady (she was trying to kick my shins) so I couldn't see what Warrington was doing, but I knew he was referring to Neville Longbottom. To be honest, I could've been rougher with Ginny, but seeing as I didn't really care if they all escaped and hexed Umbridge into oblivion, I was only holding onto her upper arms tightly. However, I was a bit tempted to follow Crabbe's actions, who seemed to be strangling Longbottom. I wondered what they could possibly be freaking out over. Probably about her attacking Hagrid and firing him. I was really upset about that as well.

I was aware of Umbridge staring at us. "Good, good. Well, it looks as though Hogwarts will shortly be a Weasley-free zone, doesn't it?"

Ginny made to charge her but I tugged her back. Draco was laughing, but it lacked the sincerity he'd had when he'd cracked up over Harry screaming during the exams.

Umbridge sat and glanced up at everyone in the room, mostly at Harry, who was against her desk. I glanced at him. He was staring at Umbridge hatefully, his green eyes aflame with fury. I hoped to God he was so angry with her he didn't pay much attention to me. That would be rather awkward.

"So, Potter... You stationed lookouts around my office and you sent this buffoon," she gestured towards Ron with her head, and Draco laughed louder, but this time it sounded sincere, "to tell me the poltergeist was wreaking havoc in the Transfiguration department when I knew perfectly well that he was busy smearing ink on the eyepieces of all the school telescopes, Mister Filch having just informed me so."

Ginny was not tiring, but I had a firm grip on her upper arms, so I could hold her easily. It helped that she was smaller than me. Although what Umbridge was saying was fascinating and I would have paid attention at another time (seeing as it had to do with Harry Potter and I was curious as to what, since I had the feeling that his freak-out during the exam had something to do with this) I was more interested in Ginny's red hair. Severus had stared at me with those mixed emotions, that poignant expression, and how he had thought of me as Lily so many times... Did he also think of Ginny like that too? Why did it bother me so much? It didn't bug me that he was in love with Lily, so why would it bother me that he might have noticed Ginny?

"Clearly, it was very important for you to talk to somebody." Talk to somebody? Ginny gave another lurch forward but I held her steady. "Was it Albus Dumbledore? Or the half-breed, Hagrid?" My grip tightened on Ginny out of anger. "I doubt it was Minerva McGonagall, I hear she is too ill to talk to anyone..."

I growled a bit out of anger at what she'd said towards McGonagall, seeing as it was her fault McGonagall was ill in the first place. Not that I particularly liked McGonagall (I liked Hagrid more) but she was part of the Order.

I found myself wishing Ginny was more like Luna Lovegood, who was just standing by Goyle, apparently bored with the proceedings. Goyle was still holding onto her, but just barely, and he seemed to be just as bored as his captive. Ginny was anything but bored.

"It's none of your business who I talk to," Harry snarled.

_Good one, Harry,_ I thought, momentarily forgetting that I didn't like him. I wish I could be more like him and stand up to her, but alas, I was a chicken If I were more like him, I wouldn't be in this situation. I would've declined the Inquisitorial Squad offer.

"Very well." She was using that annoyingly sweet voice again. "Very well, Mister Potter... I have offered you the chance to tell me freely. You refused. I have no alternative but to force you." My heart stopped. Imperio? Crucio? Perhaps it was me being a Death Eater for so long that made me think of those two spells first, but it made sense to me. "Draco, fetch Professor Snape."

I could have sang. He was part of the Order too, and so he wouldn't help that fat cow at all.

It was awkwardly silent for the next few minutes, while I tried to stop Ginny from stamping on my foot and everyone else seemed to be struggling too—except Luna Lovegood and Goyle.

Finally, Draco walked in with Severus following him. Severus looked around the room, his face completely void of emotion, although I noticed his black eyes lingered on Ginny and me for a second, as he spoke. "You wanted to see me, Headmistress?"

Umbridge stood. "Ah, Professor Snape. Yes, I would like another bottle of Veritaserum, as quick as you can, please."

"You took my last bottle to interrogate Potter." Well, that was a lie. Severus and I had just stocked a few more vials last week. It didn't matter anyway--he'd given her fake Veritaserum the last few times. "Surely you did not use it all? I told you three drops would be sufficient."

"You can make some more, can't you?" She had used it all. What an idiot.

Severus smirked the tiniest bit. I recognized that expression—he was smug. He'd won. Hah. "Certainly. It takes a full moon cycle to mature, so I should have it ready for you in around a month." I stifled a laugh, and tried not to smirk. He knew damn well she meant now. God, I love him.

That did not please Umbridge. "A month? A _month?_ But I need it this evening, Snape!" she squawked. I was trying hard not to laugh, but it was getting increasingly difficult, and I had to focus on keeping Ginny still to prevent myself from bursting out with laughter. "I have just found Potter using my fire to communicate with a person or persons unknown!"

"Really?" Severus sounded interested. I was interested too. We'd get to the bottom of this soon enough. "Well, it doesn't surprise me. Potter has never shown much inclination to follow school rules."

I noticed that Severus was staring directly into his eyes—his green eyes—and I wondered if Potter had ever learned how to share his thoughts with him. I wondered if he ever learned to open his mind. I doubted it. I found myself wishing I was in Potter's position, because I certainly knew how.

"I wish to interrogate him!" shouted Umbridge. "I wish you to provide me with a potion that will force him to tell me the truth!"

"I have already told you that I have no further stocks of Veritaserum. Unless you wish to poison Potter—and I assure you I would have the greatest sympathy with you if you did—I cannot help you. The only trouble is that most venoms act too fast to give the victim much time for truth-telling..." Another lie. He had several slow-acting poisons. It disturbed me that he felt he had to mention that, as if he actually feared Umbridge might do it. Surely she wouldn't... ?

Severus looked back at Potter.

"You are on probation!" she shrieked, and Severus raised his eyebrows at her. "You are being deliberately unhelpful! I expected better! Lucius Malfoy always speaks most highly of you! Now get out of my office!"

Severus gave her an ironic little bow and turned to leave, his eyes catching mine for a moment, I had nothing to reveal to him, so I just gave a tiny shrug. Neither of us could tell what they'd been in here for unless on of them lied and we were staring into their eyes. Unfortunately, Harry had been staring at Umbridge the whole time, so I hadn't been able to perform Occlumency on him, even if he had lied. Severus put his hand on the doorknob.

"He's got Padfoot! He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!"

I swore under my breath so quietly I doubted even Ginny heard me. Sirius. The Dark Lord had Sirius where the prophecy was hidden. I was suddenly quite worried for Sirius, then I was doubly worried seeing as I had sent Gabriel to him. He'd be alone!

"Padfoot? What is Padfoot? Where what is hidden? What does he mean, Snape?"

Severus turned around without any expression on his face. Thank God Potter actually used his brain for once! "I have no idea. Potter, when I want nonsense shouted at me I shall give you a Babbling Beverage." He turned towards Crabbe (as a cover to meet my eyes) and said; "And Crabbe, loosen your hold a little, if Longbottom suffocates it will mean a lot of tedious paperwork, and I am afraid I shall have to mention it on you reference if you ever apply for a job."

While he spoke, I showed him my memory of telling Gabriel to go to Grimmauld place, and then he showed me a memory of his patronus, so I knew he was going to send a message to someone; something I couldn't do.

Potter looked crestfallen—idiot. Did he expect Severus to act like he knew what he was talking about? Did the boy understand anything?

Severus shut the door behind him.

"Very well," she said as he pulled out her wand, and I got a very bad feeling. "Very well... I am left with no alternative... This is more than a matter of school discipline... This is an issue of Ministry security... Yes... yes..."

Oh my God. Was she going to _kill_ him? Is the bitch _insane?_ I quickly wrapped my elbow around Ginny's throat and reached into my robes, sifting through my wand as inconspicuously as possible while Ginny tried to pull my arm away. It was doing the sleeper-hold, but not very tight so it wouldn't really hurt her.

"You are forcing me Potter... I do not want to, but sometimes circumstances justify the use... I am sure the Minister will understand that I had no choice..." Since Ginny was pulling on my arm and struggling, I was having a hard time finding my wand in my robes and keeping her still at the same time, and I noticed that Draco looked a bit too interested than he should have been. I was highly uncomfortable with the situation. How could I do this without making it obvious? I couldn't' send my Patronus, seeing as Draco would tell Lucius and he would tell the Dark Lord and Death Eaters didn't have Patronuses, not to mention that would give away my position just by the fact I was asking for help, and I certainly couldn't openly curse Umbridge... A nonverbal _petrificus totalus_ it is, then...

"The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue," Umbridge said quietly.

Just as I found my wand, a bit relieved it wasn't the Killing Curse, Ginny elbowed me hard in the gut and I grunted.

"No!" shrieked Hermione. "Professor Umbridge—It's illegal!

_But it's not the Killing Curse,_ I thought in relief, then gripped Ginny properly again before she had a chance to run off.

Umbridge raised her wand, but Hermione shouted; "The Minister wouldn't want you to break the law, Professor Umbridge!"

Huh. She had a bit of Slytherin in her, didn't she? Or at least Ravenclaw. I'm putting my bets on Ravenclaw.

"What Cornelius doesn't know won't hurt him." Although earlier she sounded as if she was talking herself into it and was sickened at the idea, she now seemed enthusiastic as she pointed her wand at various body parts of Potter, who looked about ready to beat the hell out of her. Too bad Draco had his wand. "He never knew I ordered dementors after Potter last summer, but he was delighted to be given a chance to expel him, all the same..."

"That was _you?"_ gasped Potter. I was completely lost. Last summer had been pretty hectic for me, but I think I remembered my mum saying something about it after reading the newspaper--something about him getting expelled. Obviously before my birthday. "_You_ sent the dementors after me?"

"_Somebody _had to act," she breathed, pointing her wand at his forehead. "They were all bleating about silencing you somehow--discrediting you—but I was the one who actually _did_ something about it... Only you wriggled out of that one, didn't you, Potter? Not today, though, not now...Cruc--"

"NO!" cried Hermione. Brave girl. I would've kept my mouth shut. As if Potter would ever give in, he was stubborn (according to Severus) and it wasn't like she was killing him, Besides, I could always sneak my wand out again and do a nonverbal _petrificus totalus_. I wish I were brave like her. "No--Harry--Harry, we'll have to tell her!" she yelled through Millicent.

What the hell was she doing? I don't know what she was doing, but obviously Potter had been trying to talk to Sirius, and this was Order material—stuff that had to be secret! So much for Gryffindor! I might just have to silence her! Thank God Severus taught me nonverbal spells!

"No way!" he shouted, saying the words I could not although I wanted to.

Ginny was struggling more than ever, obviously thinking that same thing I was. I couldn't' let her go to grab my wand, because she would take off. Then again, maybe I should 'accidentally' let her go, get her to shut Hermione up or attack Umbridge, then pretend to aim for her and hit Umbridge, then grab her. Yeah.

"We'll have to, Harry, she'll force it out of you anyway, what's... what's the point?"

And then she began to cry on the front of Millicent's robes, who jumped away form her, looking like she was going to vomit.

"Well, well, well! Little Miss Question-All is going to give us some answers!" That little insult was pathetic and weak. Good God, she couldn't have thought of something better than that? I was getting ready to let go of Ginny, looking around to find some place to duck, being as I knew that as soon as I did hexes would go flying everywhere. "Come on then, girl, come on!"

"Er—my—nee—no!" Ron shouted through his gag.

I just had to get Ginny to stop struggling for a minute, then I could grab my wand.

"I'm—I'm sorry everyone, but—I can't stand it—" she sobbed into her hands, although they didn't sound very sob-worthy. I'd cried harder than that.

"That's right, that's right, girl!" exclaimed Umbridge, seizing Hermione by the shoulder and thrusting her into the chintz chair and leaning over her. I got the feeling Hermione was stalling... Good, all the more time for me to think of something... "Now then... with whom was Potter communicating just now?"

Sirius, obviously.

"Well, he was _trying_ to speak to Professor Dumbledore..."

What? Why would he try to reach Dumbledore instead of Sirius? Either Potter was incredibly stupid and made up the Padfoot thing, or Hermione was lying. I doubted Potter would lie about Sirius. Although I could not look into Hermione's eyes, I had the suspicion she was lying. Not to mention Ginny stopped trying to stamp on my foot, so obviously this stunned her as well. Well then. No worries.

* * *

A/N--I know I've been gone awhile. I had (still have, technically) pneumonia, and I was so sick I couldn't get out of bed. However, since I was gone for so long, I have written you two chapters instead of one. For this fanfic, I referenced the chapter Into The Fire in Order of the Phoenix quite a lot. I nwhich, a "big, sixth year Slytherin girl" is holding onto Ginny. There you go.

Thanks to Edgar A Poe, my wonderful beta.


	50. Chapter 53

Chapter 53: Sirius

I wondered faintly what House Umbridge had belonged to. It certainly wasn't Ravenclaw. That woman obviously didn't' care too much about knowledge, seeing as she practically assigned pop-up book in Defence Against the Dark Arts, and she was dumb as hell. How could anyone fall for that lie Hermione told? Well, apparently everyone but me. Then again, I had an unfair advantage, seeing as I was part of the Order and knew damn well there was no weapon that Dumbledore was hiding. I also knew who Padfoot was. So maybe that explained it.

Still, though, she was easily manipulated. Hermione knew just what to say in order to get Umbridge out there alone, without any of us following her, despite the fact Draco asked to go along. Hermione was definitely part Ravenclaw.

Luna was still standing by Goyle, looking extremely bored, while everybody else struggled, although not as intensely as before. I'd glanced out the window and saw that they were leading Umbridge into the Forbidden Forest. Yep, Umbridge was dumb. Ginny was still thrashing around a bit, although not too much. I wasn't holding onto her very tightly.

How long were we supposed to wait here? I was more concerned about Sirius and Gabriel and Severus than these proceedings. If the Dark Lord had Sirius . . . He would kill him. I didn't' want Sirius to die. Not after all he'd been through. Sirius was a good man, and he'd been stuck in Azkaban for twelve years over something he didn't do, not to mention people still thought he was guilty and so he was stuck in a house he hated. Sirius wasn't the type of guy to stay locked in a house forever, so I knew that had to be torture on him. It just wasn't fair for him--it wasn't' fair how he was still prisoner, even in his own home. I was not going to let him die. He couldn't. He hadn't even lived his life! Well, there had to be a way—

"OUCH!" I yelled when Ginny stamped on my foot and ground her heel against my toes.

She elbowed me in the gut and I bent over, clutching my abdomen while she searched her robes for her wand. Her attacking me grabbed the attention of Draco, who raised Harry's wand at her, probably forgetting he wasn't holding his own. She shot him with a Bat Bogey hex then turned towards me, raising her wand.

I reached forward to knock her wand out of her hand, but she grabbed my wrist. She had a hold of my wand hand. Damnit. She pointed her wand at me again and I scratched her face--it was the first thing I thought of--and blood seeped through her skin before I punched her in the face, pulling out my wand.

And all hell broke loose.

Stunning spells and impedimenta jinxes flew everywhere, Draco trying to brush off the bat bogey hex from his face, dropping Harry's wand. I shot a few jinxes over my shoulder then dove underneath Umbridge's desk like a coward. Well, I wasn't in Gryffindor, so who gives a crap? Plus, I wasn't about to hex them! They were the good guys! And I certainly couldn't hex 'my side' without giving myself away. So I pretended to be a coward. Like anybody would care, seeing as Draco dove under the desk too, so that we were cramped underneath there while the others fought. Draco may be many things, but brave he was not.

The rest of them battled recklessly above us while Draco and I sat under the desk, trying to get into a more comfortable position that didn't involve either of us accidentally groping the other. After a few moments of frantic re-positioning, we found a spot that was mostly comfortable ,and listened to the screams and thuds.

"You scratched the Weasley girl good," Draco pointed out.

"Couldn't grab my wand in time." That was the truth. I wasn't much of a fist fighter, so scratching was the first thing that came to mind.

"You tell anyone I'm hiding or that she hit me wit ha Bat Bogey Hex, and I'll murder you," he mumbled in embarrassment.

"Same here." He looked a bit frightened, and I realized it was because, unlike him, I had actually murdered someone before. "Not really, Draco."

"I knew that!" he spat, although I could tell he really didn't.

Either a spell or a person hit the desk and it shuddered with the weight and he both made to move in case we had to. Longbottom let out a warrior-like yell I would not have expected from him and I heard Millicent Bulstrode screech.

"Is Astoria's dad a Death Eater?" I asked.

"You would know more than me. Daphne hasn't' said anything. Although, thinking on it, it would make sense—the Dark Lord needs to spread the word, and he _is_ American."

I furrowed my eyebrows, thinking hard. Had I met any American Death Eaters? If so, I guess it didn't mean anything ,seeing as no memory of Gabriel's mother had proved or disproved that the man who raped her was a Death Eater.

"So, I take it you don't like Astoria very much?" I said, to break the awkward silence between us. The battle raged on while we sat, safe, under the desk.

"No," he muttered, snarling. "But at least she isn't a gossiping, superficial cow like her sister. Still, they're both . . . Well, they don't' have a filter on their mouths."

"And you do?" I said with a raised eyebrow.

"That's different."

I chuckled, then I stopped when I heard Ron let out a yell. There was a loud thunk, then Ginny shouted something, and two more bodies fell to the floor, groaning. We heard them all exit the room.

We slowly crawled out from underneath the desk, me holding my robs where Ginny had elbows me, a sharp pain going through my foot with each step I took.

Millicent, Crabbe, Goyle, and Warrington were all groaning on the floor, holding random bruises and bleeding in some spots. Draco and I looked at each other, then I smiled at him. "I'm gonna go find Snape so I can go home."

"You mean, baby sit Gabriel," he corrected.

"Oh, yeah. Keep forgetting that." I cleared my throat and left the office. As soon as the door shut behind me, I tore off down the hall, heading towards Severus' office. I turned the corner and slammed right into something solid. Whoever I bumped into must have been running just as quickly, because we both fell backwards. I fell on my arse, pain jarring through my bones, and I looked up and saw Severus steadying himself.

"Severus! They escaped—they kicked our arses—well I hid, I didn't want to curse anybody or give away my position—"

"Where did they all leave to?"

I quickly stood up, brushing off my robes. "Well, Hermione made up this huge lie about a weapon of some kind, then led Harry and Umbridge into the Forbidden Forest. We waited up there a minute, then all hell broke loose."

"How long have they been gone?" he asked, looking far more worried than I liked.

"Er, Harry and Hermione have been gone at least twenty minutes. The others just left. We all saw them go into the Forbidden Forest, so I think that's where they're headed... Come on, let's go get Sirius!" I started to go in the other direction, frantic now that I could actually do something about Sirius being held captive by the Dark Lord. "We gotta think of something that won't jeopardize our cover--we can think on the way—"

He grabbed my arm and I turned to face him. "Danielle, Sirius is at Grimmauld Place. I sent him... A message." He grimaced for a moment.

"You sent the doe?" I asked, feeling a little strange. Severus didn't necessarily like showing off his Patronus, even to those who knew he had one. Dumbledore had told me this, saying he had never seen it himself, only that Severus had told him he had one. He knew that I knew what it was, and that he would appreciate it if I didn't tell anyone—not even him--seeing as it was Severus' Patronus and it was his decision to show who he wanted.

"Something Sirius was more than happy to comment on in his return Patronus."

I furrowed my eyebrows. That made two people that I was aware of that knew what Severus' Patronus was, although I suspected Dumbledore had figured it out on his own, even without Severus ever showing or telling him. Only Sirius and I had seen it.

"So... what now?" I mumbled. "Obviously Sirius is safe, so..."

Severus stood there for a moment, brows furrowed. "I hope that infernal boy hasn't gone to the Department of Mysteries. Had that boy done what I asked and practiced, we would not be in this situation!" he growled angrily, snarling slightly.

I nodded, then a searing pain shot through my left arm. I cried out and grabbed my arm, clutching the sleeve. I swore loudly, surprised by the sudden pain. I looked up at Severus to see that he was holding a hand to his arm as well.

"Danielle, I can't leave." I nodded. I understood why he couldn't leave. "Tell him that if I were to leave, I would jeopardize my position. He will understand—he ordered me never to leave if it would jeopardize my position."

Grudgingly, I left, getting a foreboding feeling in my chest.

* * *

Lucius liked to hear himself talk.

I don't know whether or not Harry had known this beforehand, but he certainly seemed to have figured it out in the Hall of Prophecies, because now we were chasing him and his idiot friends throughout the Hall of Prophecies, having crystal balls thrown at my face.

Lucius was an intelligent man. He knew just how to get what he wanted. He had thought that Harry's Gryffindor inherited curiosity would be enough to trick him into giving him the prophecy. It wasn't a stupid idea. Thank God Lucius had the presence of mind to keep Bellatrix obedient—there were several times I'd thought she was going to attack them and break the prophecy, which wouldn't make the Dark Lord very happy with any of us. Still, though Lucius' plan to convince Harry to give us the prophecy was bright, Harry seemed to be brighter. He'd kept Lucius talking.

Although I was glad Harry had found some IQ points somewhere in that brain of his, it was a bit frustrating having to run after the same damn kids I'd been locked up in a room with earlier that day, knowing just how much damage they could do. Not to mention having crystal balls fly at my head and break on the ground, hundreds of whispered prophecies making it hard to hear or focus on anything else.

Still, though, I don't' think Bellatrix was too happy with him. Harry had blatantly disrespected the Dark Lrod, and I wouldn't' be too surprised if she murdered him because of it—or else did something to really screw with him. Everybody knew Bellatrix had an unhealthy obsession with her master. And having the boy who dispatched him insult him to her face wasn't a very bright thing to do. A very brash, Gryffindor thing to do, yes, but not at all intelligent.

We followed them as quickly as possible, me making sure my mask stayed on properly so no one would recognize me. That would just be awkward, even if they already knew that I was a Death Eater. I heard a door slam shut, but before I could really investigate, I tripped over a fallen body and a group of Death Eaters was standing in front of the body. I looked down—it was Nott's father.

I bent down to help pick him up—he was bleeding badly, and I think his nose was broken. He was unconscious, but breathing, although his breaths were raspy. I tried lifting him up to no avail, then I pointed my wand at him.

"Leave Nott," Lucius ordered and I glared at him, although I knew it wasn't very intimidating considering I had my mask on. I raised my wand again. I wasn't going to leave my friend's (I use the term loosely) dad behind. "_Leave him, I say,_ the Dark Lord will not care for Nott's injuries as much as losing that prophecy—" Jugson went to a door and went to open it. "Jugson, come back here, we need to organize! We'll split into pairs and search, and don't forget, be gentle with Potter until we've got the prophecy, you can kill the others if necessary—Bellatrix, Rodolphus, you take the left, Crabbe, Rabastan, go right—Jugson, Dolohov, the door straight ahead—Macnair and Avery, through here—" Lucius pointed at me and went to say my name but I shook my head vehemently. He seemed to catch on that I didn't want Harry to overhear my name, in case he was nearby. "Rookwood, over there—Mulciber, come with me!"

Lucius had gestured for me to go with Rookwood. I would have rather not gone with him, seeing as it was he who had given the Dark Lord the information I had already given him, but I guess I had no real reason to be angry at Rookwood—it wasn't his fault the Dark Lord was a berk. I went with Rookwood, then glanced over my shoulder at Nott's dad, who was still unconscious on the floor. I felt a little guilty about leaving him there with all those injuries, but then, thinking on it. I probably shouldn't, seeing as he _is_ one of the bad guys.

Rookwood and I had searched for Potter and the prophecy. We met up with two others, then we found Ron and Ginny and Luna Lovegood. Rookwood hit Ron with a spell I didn't know and I don't think I ever wanted to learn, and I tripped Ginny. I think I might have broken Ginny's ankle. I felt oddly pleased with myself, although I would never admit it out loud. Still, it was like payback for her stomping on my foot and elbowing my ribs. My foot still hurt when I walked on it because of her. I had to hit her with a curse at least once in order to keep my cover anyway.

They managed to get away from us, but we found them later on in a room with this creepy brain thing... Whatever it was, it was attacking Ron, which I don't think could have been very good ,seeing as he was still under the effects of that spell Rookwood had used...

We'd followed Harry into a room with a veil, and finally the Order appeared. I would have appreciated it if they'd shown up earlier, like, say, a few moments before Bellatrix hit Neville with the Cruciatus Curse.

Right now, I was dueling with Sirius. Well, not really dueling seeing as we weren't trying to hurt each other, so I guess it was more like sparring.

"You certainly have gotten better with dueling," Sirius said with a roguish smile.

Even though I was trying my hardest, it looked like Sirius was just having fun. I looked into his dark, grey eyes—the same eyes Bellatrix had. Even Draco had grey eyes, but they were a lighter shade. Somehow, though, Sirius' eyes held a warmth that neither of his cousins had. Azkaban had hollowed out both his and Bellatrix's features, so that they weren't as attractive as they had once been—but they were still both good-looking; they just had a hard, harsh quality to their features.

"Well, Severus is a good teacher," I said, our wands moving so quickly they were like blurs. Perhaps it was because we were just having fun with each other, or maybe it was because my instincts were taking over, but I was doing better than I thought I would be.

"Right..." he murmured.

We were about ten feet away from Harry. Who was being strangled from behind by a Death Eater, but because most of us were wearing masks I couldn't tell which one it was.

"Dani, you gotta get me over by Harry," he ordered, and we both started going over to Harry, dueling the whole way. However, Neville jabbed his wand in the Death Eater's eyes and then Harry Stunned him—it was Macnair—before we got over to him. We waltzed right past him, still dueling.

"What are you doing here, by the way?" I asked, looking around at all of the other fights going on. "I mean, it's nice that you're helping, but you know you're not supposed to leave Grimmauld Place. And, er... I sent Gabriel over there."

"I explained to him before I left. Dumbledore should be there soon enough. I explained to Gabriel what I was doing before I left, and I told him not to leave and to be careful. I don't need another lecture—your dear boyfriend already gave me one." He snarled a bit and narrowed his grey eyes.

"Well, you really shouldn't have left, Sirius, you need to stay at Grimmauld Place! Gabriel is seven years old, Sirius!"

"I'm not going to just sit by and leave my godson to get murdered over a damn prophecy!" he spat, and he shot a hex a bit more forcefully than he had been.

"All right, fine! Let's just get this over with quickly! No need to get an attitude!" I retorted, shooting a curse just as forcefully back.

He let out a bark of laughter and shook his head. "You really do have the whole mothering thing down, don't ya?"

"Well, I guess it works out just fine, seeing as you still act like a child."

Sirius started laughing. "You know, Dani, I really love being around you. You should come over more often."

"As long as you don't get any ideas," I said with a smile, and he laughed louder.

Then, right in the middle of laughing, he lunged at me. I jumped, then realized that he wasn't lunging at me, but at a Death eater behind me, who had tried to _accio_ the prophecy. I turned around and saw him dueling Dolohov for a moment or two before Harry used _petrificus totalus_ on him.

I looked around, and saw Lupin. He had just gotten rid of whoever he'd been dueling, so I went over to him. "Lupin," I said quietly.

He turned and looked at me, surprised at hearing my voice. He realized who I was, then he smiled genially at me, and we both started dueling, but nowhere near as fiercely as Sirius and I had been dueling. For some reason it felt awkward dueling with him, whereas it hadn't been awkward dueling with Sirius at all. Maybe it was because I used to have a crush on him.

Unlike with Sirius, I couldn't think of anything to talk about, so we just fought silently. I looked around the room to see that Bellatrix and Sirius were dueling, and I looked around to see how Harry was faring...

"Shit, he broke the prophecy!" I gasped, seeing the silvery, wispy figure of someone who actually looked a bit familiar. Lupin stopped dueling me and he looked. After a second of me feeling completely sick, I laughed. "Wait, that's a good thing! Well, then! Seems like the Dark Lord isn't getting his prophecy! This is just great!" I smiled at Lupin and he smiled at me.

I looked around—nobody else noticed. Then again, everybody else was actually really fighting for their lives. "Perhaps you should tell Voldemort? He might thank you for it."

"And one could always use brownie points with the Dark Lord," I agreed dully. "Yeah, I'll go tell him, then I'll stop by headquarters and wait for everyone there, before I go home."

"All right. I'll make sure to stop by."

I nodded. "I'll see you later, Lupin," I said, then turned around and hurried up the stone steps, glancing over my shoulder to see that odd veil. I'd noticed it when I first came in here, but I hadn't gone anywhere near it, seeing as I hadn't had any time to do so.

I left the room and went into the brain room, where Ron was giggling strangely, Hermione was either unconscious or dead (I'm hoping unconscious) and Ginny and Luna Lovegood seemed to be trying to help them.

I hadn't expected them to still be here.

Ginny shot a curse at me and I tried to dodge it, but it hit me right in the face. It was probably a good thing I was wearing my mask, otherwise that probably would have really hurt me. I fell backwards and my mask fell off of my face and my hood slid off of my hair. Ginny seemed to recognize me, but before any of this could escalate, I grabbed my mask and darted out of the brain room. I would have Apparated, but apparently one couldn't Apparate into the ministry. I understood why, of course, but it made it difficult to leave quickly.

As soon as I left the room, I saw Dumbledore. I slowed to a stop, feeling awkward for some reason. "Oh, er... I was just... The prophecy smashed, but no one saw it but me—everyone else was fighting—so I was just gonna tell the Dark Lord—you know, I'd rather tell him—get brownie points, I guess..."

Dumbledore furrowed his eyebrows and nodded. "Yes... He won't be angry with you so much as angry with the person who made this plan..."

"Lucius came up with the plan," I revealed, and I felt a painful twinge in my chest.

"Voldemort won't be too happy with him. However, do as you must. You know your way out of here?"

"Rookwood told us all how to get around... Er, see you later, sir."

He smiled and nodded briefly at me, then moved past me, as I continued on my way.

* * *

The Dark Lord hadn't been very happy with the news. Not happy at all. He congratulated me on my good eyesight, saying that he was very displeased with his other followers for not noticing, and that he was glad that I had sense enough to keep my eye on the prize, even whilst fighting.

Of course, this was after he hit me with the Cruciatus to release his anger. Still, he was pleased with me. Taking out his frustration had absolutely nothing to do with his feelings in regards to me. His feelings towards me and his feelings towards the prophecy breaking were two different things. I just happened to be the only person there for him to take his anger out on. Or at least, that's what he said.

Brownie points or not, I wondered if I should have stayed with the other Death Eaters.

I went back to Grimmauld Place and found Gabriel, who was in the kitchen, making sandwiches (quite sloppily, I might add) and pouring himself some milk, some of it spilling on the table, but only some of it. "Sirius isn't back yet?" I asked, suddenly worried.

"No. He said he wouldn't be gone long, but he'd been gone forever it seems like." I looked at the time--it had been at least a half-hour. Well, duelling took a lot of time, although it didn't always seem like it took so much. Maybe we just lost track of time.

"Huh. Well, Dumbledore showed up--the battle will be done soon enough. They're probably just rounding everybody up." I went over to the table and sat down. I looked at what he was making. "You know, that's why we have house elves. I mean, I'm glad you're not lazy, but you're kinda making a mess."

"You mean Kreacher?" he asked slowly, his voice taking on a tone I didn't like.

I furrowed my eyebrows, getting a bad feeling. "Yes..."

"Kreacher is bad," Gabriel said, his lips pursing while he sat down. "I don't really understand what was going on, but Dumbledore got very angry. Kreacher said something about telling Narcissa Malfoy about Harry Potter loving Sirius like a dad, and that he would do anything to rescue him."

I suddenly remember Lucius and Bellatrix telling the Dark Lord in a separate room their plan, and how they didn't want anyone else overhearing. I remembered them making an offhand remark about knowing who Harry loved more than anyone else, and I remember I hadn't really understood why that was important. So that's how the Dark Lord knew to bait Potter with Sirius.

"Oh. Well, everything's fine. The prophecy the Dark Lord wanted broke, so... I guess we'll just wait here, then."

"Or we could go home."

"Well, I told Lupin I was gonna wait here. It's customary to go back here after a mission. Besides, you wanna say bye to Sirius, don't you? It's kinda rude to just leave without telling him."

He sighed and nodded. "I guess. I'm just really tired."

I nodded. "Me, too."

* * *

"Danielle," a voice called.

I jerked awake, gasping slightly. For a moment I didn't know where I was, but I looked around I remembered I'd gone to Grimmauld Place. Gabriel had fallen asleep with his head resting on his forearms, which were folded on top of the table. I'd fallen asleep with my head resting on the back of the chair.

"Oh, you scared me."

I looked at Lupin and my heart skipped a beat, but not in a good way. His eyes were red and swollen, and the skin underneath was red. He had obviously been crying. Panic filled me.

"What happened?" I inquired urgently.

"Sirius..." He didn't finish the sentence. His voice broke and he turned away from me, crying quietly into his hands, which he used to cover his face.

He didn't need to finish the sentence. I knew what happened.

Sirius was dead.

* * *

A/N--I read the chapter Beyond the Veil and The Lost Prohpecy for the information in this chapter.

Thanks to my beta, Edgar A Poe


	51. Chapter 54

Chapter 54: Paint It Black

"No! You're lying!" Gabriel shouted when Lupin finished explaining what had happened after I left the ministry. Apparently, Bellatrix (his own cousin, I might add) hit him with a stunning spell, and it knocked him through that strange veil—and he didn't come out the other side. It was the veil that killed him; not Bellatrix. Still, it felt satisfying to blame her.

But a veil? He died over something as simple as that? Not in some glorious battle, or after some tortuous ordeal—because he fell through an archway. It didn't feel right. It didn't feel real.

"Gabriel, as much as I wish I could say I was lying, I'm not," Lupin said in a low, quiet voice—the voice of someone much older than Lupin was. He sounded much older than he had when I last spoke with him, however brief that had been.

"No!" Gabriel screamed, jumping out of his chair and pointing a finger at Lupin accusingly. "Veils don't kill people! People and sickness and cars and wars kill people! Not falling through archways! You just need to go back and check! You didn't look hard enough!"

"Gabriel—" Lupin started, his eyes still watering, marks of tears down either side of his face.

"No! He's playing hide and seek! Send me there, I'll find him! I'm good at this!"

"Gabriel," I said, my voice cracking. It was the first time I'd spoken since Lupin had told me. My throat was suddenly dry and my eyes were wet. It was like talking had turned on the emotions. He turned to look at me, his face scrunched up in anger, but his eyes wet. "He's gone. Sirius... Isn't hiding. He's not coming back."

"No! It isn't true!" he shrieked, then suddenly fell to his knees and started sobbing.

Hearing his sobs was the worst thing I'd ever had to hear. It was the only thing I could hear for awhile. It echoed throughout the kitchen, each wet choke and each time he cried out seemed to wrench at my heart. I had liked Sirius. I hadn't hung out with him a lot or talked to him often, but I liked him. I know Gabriel liked him. Uncle Sirius. That's what he called him.

Severus was the only adult man I'd ever seen cry, and I'd only seen him do it twice. But when Gabriel started crying, it seemed to cause Lupin to cry again. He stood up and turned away from me, as if ashamed or embarrassed, and held a hand to his eyes. His cries were quiet and it felt like he was holding back. I knew that if he was alone, he would've been sobbing. Sirius was his best friend, after all. His only friend, actually.

I felt like some sort of voyeur. I was out of place. I don't know if it came from me dating the man Sirius hated, or if it was because I wasn't crying, or if it was because I knew Lupin probably wanted to be alone, but I felt like I didn't belong. I even felt guilty. Where had I been when Sirius died? I'd been at the Dark Lord's feet.

"Gabriel, come on," I said, my voice cracking, and I grabbed his arm. I hoisted him up on his feet. Gabriel clung to me, crying into my robes, and I stared blurrily at Lupin. He turned to face us, and I hastily wiped away my tears. "If—if you need anything... Just send me a message, and I'll come to you, okay?" It was hard to say. It was like I was learning to speak for the first time, and my mouth wasn't used to forming words and syllables.

Lupin nodded. "Thank you," he mumbled. I wasn't sure if he was thanking me for my offer, or because I was leaving him to cry in peace.

And I Apparated us to Spinner's End, even though I wasn't legally allowed to. It had taken me months to learn how, and I wasn't about to not do it simply because I wasn't supposed to. I'd done it before, anyway.

As soon as we made it into the living room, Gabriel wrenched from me. "It's not fair!" he shouted.

"I know, Gabriel," I said. My eyes were burning. I felt... wrong. Like I wasn't really here. I was watching myself act through a tunnel. Sirius dying didn't feel... real. Like it was some sort of joke, and any minute Sirius would pop into the living room, laughing, and say it was some practical joke. It would be a cruel joke—far crueler than Sirius would ever do, I'm sure—but that's what it felt like.

"He never did anything wrong! He didn't do anything!"

I nodded slowly.

"And you!" he screamed, pointing at me. "You don't even care!"

"What?" I demanded, staring at the teary-eyed boy before me, pointing his accusing finger at me. "How can you say that? Of course I care!"

"No you don't! You're not even crying! And—And Sirius and Severus hated each other, and you're dating Severus! You probably wanted him to die!"

"Gabriel! Now that's enough!" I shouted, feeling the tears spring to my eyes. Of course I cared! It had taken me awhile to cry after my mum died, too. Maybe it was shock. I don't know, but I _did_ care.

"You're always off killing people and torturing—"

"Now that's an overstatement!" I screamed.

"—with the girl who killed him! And where were you today, huh? At the ministry, with him! But which side were you on, Dani? Which side were you on? You should've killed Bellatrix when no one was looking! That's what I would have done! But no! You probably just laughed and fought alongside your precious Bellatrix!"

"You don't even know what you're talking about!"

"Damn you! Damn you for everything!" Under normal circumstances, I might have told him to watch his language. But I felt like he'd smacked me. I felt like the world had crashed down on me. He kicked the couch, then rounded on me again. "Bring him back!"

"What?" I said, caught off-guard. I _had_ been on the wrong side... Maybe I should have shot a curse at Bellatrix. Everyone had been fighting, no one would have noticed a badly aimed spell... They would have just blamed someone of the Order...

"Bring him back! You're a witch! Just go bring him back with magic!" He grabbed my sleeve and started tugging it, as if he was going to lead me to the Ministry. "Bring him back, Dani!

"Gabriel, I can't," I whispered, and it felt like I had betrayed him somehow. He looked at me, his lips pursed, as if I was being deliberately unhelpful. "He's dead. I can't bring him back. Death is... It's final, Gabriel. You can't fix it!"

"That's not fair! What's the point of magic if you can't do what you want?" he screamed, turned away from me, and began to make a mess of Spinner's End. He knocked all the books off of the shelves and started kicking the bookshelf, screaming out.

I watched him while tears ran down my face. I hadn't really known Sirius... I should have visited him more, that's what I should have done... I should have spoke to him often, or came by and had dinner... He'd been stuck in that house, all alone, and it never once occurred to me that maybe he wouldn't be so alone if I'd dropped by. After all the times I'd inwardly complained about how it was so unfair that Sirius had to stay locked up after finally getting out of Azkaban, I'd never done anything about it... It had seemed so out-of-the-way, so boring... I'd tell myself I'd do it later, when it didn't inconvenience me... Gabriel had gone to talk to him a few times, and Severus and I had let him, glad to have a little time with each other, snogging or having dinner... Why hadn't I gone with him, at least a few times?

I started crying, and it was like all of my strength left me. The sound shocked me, and I realized that I had been _trying_ not to cry. I'd been holding it back. I hadn't wanted to cry, and now, letting out a sob, it felt... relieving.

Gabriel ran to me and hugged my chest, and I held onto him, before I started crying so hard I fell to my knees. Sirius had spent half of his life locked up, whether in Azkaban or in his own home. Even when he'd lived there when younger, he hadn't enjoyed it... How was it fair that Sirius had to stay locked up in places he hated when Bellatrix got to get out and follow her master, and love life? How was that fair at all?

We both sobbed, Gabriel clutching onto me, and I was sure I was clutching onto him. It wanted to go back and kill Bellatrix when no one was looking. I wanted to shove her through the veil. I wanted to be dueling Sirius again, laughing. He'd had such a nice laugh... And those eyes—Draco's eyes, Bellatrix's eyes—they sparkled when he laughed, and he didn't looked so hollow anymore...

I kept thinking about how he'd said he wanted to make us a family again. How he wanted Harry and him and me to all sit down, and be a proper family... He didn't want that with his actual family, he wanted that with us...

We cried, and all it did was make it feel worse, like there was a ball in my chest that was growing larger, and pressing on my ribs, and lungs, and heart, crushing my body from the inside... Sirius was gone, and he _was not_ coming back, and Lupin would never talk to him again, and Harry wouldn't either... And I wouldn't... and Sirius wouldn't ever laugh again... Or talk, or drink, or accidentally call me Evans or Lily...

The door opened and Severus walked in. Sometimes he Apparated to the park, when it was late at night, and then walked here. I don't know why. I think he liked to stretch his legs a bit. The last time he'd done it, Harry had gone into his Pensieve. Maybe it helped calm his nerves or something.

He looked at us on our knees, hugging and crying, and he instantly grew worried. "What happened?" he demanded as he walked to us.

We both stood, Gabriel still holding onto my robes, and I brushed my tears away, although my breath was still shaky. He grabbed my head and started turning it a little, his eyes roaming my face, as if checking me for injuries. I was still crying softly, not wanting to sob in front of him.

"What happened?" he repeated, more urgently.

"Sirius... died," I mumbled, feeling stupid. It sounded like such a harsh word. Died. I should have said passed on, or that he was gone. Saying he died felt so... naked.

Severus stepped away from me and opened his mouth. I could literally see him trying to think of something to say, but when he closed his mouth, I knew he hadn't thought of anything. I don't know if he already knew about it or not. He could have been home for quite awhile and just gone for a walk, or maybe he'd been searching for Harry this whole time. It was sunrise, after all. Maybe he hadn't thought Sirius dying would have made me sad, and when he came in here crying didn't think that was what I was crying about. Then again, maybe he actually didn't know and this was coming as news to him.

With a long sigh, he strode right past me and went to his room, leaving us to cry. I watched him leave, but I didn't follow. I'm sure he didn't want me to.

* * *

School had just barely gotten out, and I suppose I should have been excited to spend my first summer in Spinner's End with Severus, but I wasn't as excited as I thought I would be. Maybe it was because Sirius had died. Maybe it was because I was already used to Spinner's End. I didn't know. 

I tried to remember the last time Severus and I had kissed. Sure, we'd kissed briefly on the lips, habitually, but I couldn't remember the last time we'd actually kissed heavily, passionately. I knew that it was my fault. I knew that I was the one being distant. Sirius had died not too long ago, and I think I was still upset over it.

Nobody talked about it. Gabriel acted like his normal, bubbly self—perhaps even more so, since it was summer—but every now and then I'd find him sitting on the couch staring at nothing, or I'd hear him talking in his room. I remember Sirius told me Gabriel talked in his room when his mum first died, and I figured it was the same thing. Gabriel was even having nightmares again, so he'd sleep in the same bed with Severus and me.

"Can I go to the park?" Gabriel asked.

Severus furrowed his eyebrows. "We have to clean the extra room for our... guest." Judging by the snarl and the tone of his voice, he didn't like our future guest. That weird guy—Wormtail, that's what the Dark Lord called him—was going to be staying with us. Severus seemed to dislike him more than the other Death Eaters.

"Well, I didn't ask if you two could come. I can do it by myself."

Severus glared at him. "Do what you like."

"Well, are you guys gonna walk me there or should I get kidnapped on the way?" he snapped, folding his arms.

"I thought you said you could do it by yourself?" Severus said coolly.

Gabriel sighed and looked away.

"Why don't you help us clean up here, and then we can _all_ go to the park?" Even though I was talking to Gabriel, I was looking at Severus. It wasn't the first time Gabriel had wanted to go to the park. Severus never wanted to go. I'd gone with Gabriel a few times. I don't know why he was so stubborn about it—he liked to go there at night by himself sometimes. It wasn't like we were asking him to play or anything.

Severus' eyes caught mine and I got the feeling he was contemplating something, like he was trying to say something but he wasn't sure he wanted to, then he let out a brief nod. "Fine. But let's clean this first. It doesn't have to be spotless. It's only Wormtail."

Despite the fact he'd said it didn't need to be spotless, Severus seemed to be taking his sweet time being thorough. It was obvious Severus had been using this as his personal workspace. He had books up here, and a cauldron, and several finished potions in vials. There were papers stacked in piles that had scribblings and little drawings on it. Some of it seemed to be poetry, and I read through them. Some of it seemed to be spells and potions he'd been inventing. Some of them were pictures he'd drawn of others—usually Lily, but I saw a few of me in there, and a couple of Gabriel. There were a couple of people I didn't recognize, too.

"What's that?" Gabriel asked, pointing at an odd contraption in the shape of a box. I didn't know what it was either. It looked like something muggle, and the fact Gabriel didn't know what it was even though he was raised as a muggle made it even more intriguing.

"That's a record player," Severus revealed.

"What does it do?" Gabriel inquired, poking it with his finger.

"It plays records," Severus said with a small smile, his tone ironic.

Gabriel sighed. "Well duh. What's a record?"

Severus walked over to a box, where these thin, but large, rectangles were in. He sifted through them, and pulled one out. From inside the thin rectangle cases, he pulled out a black, circular object. "This is a record. To be specific, _The Rolling Stones."_

He demonstrated putting the record in the record player, explaining the needle and how to get it to work. It seemed to be complicated. I don't know why he kept it. Gabriel had a CD player that was easier to use in his room.

We listened to it, and I guess it was okay. The music was old sounding. I was more into Gabriel's music, like the _Sex Pistols_ or _Metallica_. It was all right, I guess. It wasn't bad. I liked it, but I didn't love it. Gabriel seemed to hate it though, because he kept glaring at it and sighing as if he had to endure the weight of the world.

After awhile, I realized Severus was doing something strange. Very strange. He was _humming. _I don't think he realized he was doing it, but he was in a better mood then I'd seen him in for awhile. I found myself working my way over to him just to listen to him hum. It was only on this one song he was doing it, because I was sure I would have heard him humming along with the other songs. When I listened very closely, I realized he was also singing along with it, although quietly, so I could barely hear the words.

Severus went to the record player and moved the needle thing. He listened to that same song a few more times before letting it play normally. It was a catchy song. A very catchy song, and I loved it after the third time listening to it, if only to see Severus smile the tiniest bit and to hear him hum and sing the words under his breath.

"I'm bored," Gabriel said after awhile, glaring at the record player as if it was its fault for making him bored.

Severus looked around the room. We'd been going back and forth between this room and the basement. The door to the basement was located in the kitchen, and only had one room, with pipes hanging from the ceiling and wires visible in the walls. It was obviously not finished, and used for storage. There were vials of potions down here, just like there had been in the room behind his bookshelf. We'd gone back and forth, storing things, and now it was practically empty. Except for the record player. "We'll put that in our room," Severus said, looking at me.

I nodded.

"Then we'll go to the park," he said, with a small snarl.

* * *

I found myself humming the song he'd listened to several times on the way to the park. It was stuck in my head, although I didn't know the words—only the tune. Since Sirius died, I'd felt depressed, and like I didn't really deserve to be alive. I felt guilty. That's what it was. I felt guilty for living, and guilty for not spending more time with him. I couldn't even remember the last words I'd said to him. For some reason, the tune I had stuck in my head—the tune from the song he'd listened to several times—seemed to ease the pain, although it somehow reflected it. I imagine that if what I felt on the inside had a sound, that's what it would sound like. So then why did I like the song? 

"What's it called?" I asked as we stepped into the park, Gabriel running over to the swings, where a few other kids were playing. They must have known him, because they waved him over.

Severus was staring after Gabriel. For a few seconds he didn't say anything. "Hmm?" Apparently he hadn't been paying attention.

"The song. What's it called? The one you listened to over and over."

"Paint It Black," he answered, his eyes moving away from me and focusing on the park itself. "Do you like it?"

"Yeah." Even though he wasn't looking at me, he smiled the tiniest bit. "You hum it, you know."

"Do I?" I think he knew he did, but he was just pretending that he didn't know. Maybe it embarrassed him.

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Must we stay long?" he asked. The thought obviously bothered him.

I plopped down on the grass and he sat beside me, awaiting my answer. I don't know why. If he didn't want to stay, he didn't have to. I wasn't his mum. He didn't have to do what I told him to. "You can go, if you want."

He seemed to consider it. I don't know why he didn't want to be here. "I'll stay with you," he finally said.

"You're the one who comes here at night."

"Does it bother you?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. He was looking at me curiously. "What? You coming here?" He nodded. "No. Why would it? You just come here sometimes before you come home. Obviously it doesn't bug you if I know. You don't block it out or anything."

He didn't say anything. He didn't explain why he came here before he went home sometimes, or why it bugged him to come here now. I waited patiently, but when he didn't say anything for awhile, I knew he wasn't going to talk, so I just looked away from him and watched Gabriel play.

"I'm sorry I can't be sad for him," he said suddenly.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "What?" I looked at him. He was staring at me. "What are you talking about?"

"Sirius."

It was like tugging the rug out from underneath me. I didn't talk about Sirius with him for a reason. They hadn't liked each other, and I didn't want him to have to pretend he actually cared that he was dead. It bothered me—all right, it angered me—that Severus didn't like him. It hadn't bugged me before, but now that he was dead, it seemed so unfair for Severus to not like him. It was stupid, I know. He shouldn't have to like anybody, and he shouldn't have to care that someone he hated was dead. I knew he didn't care and it bugged me, but at the same time, I didn't want to have to force him to act like he did care.

"Oh," I mumbled. This was going to be awkward. I knew it.

"You have to understand, Danielle, that I _did_ try. For you, at least. For Gabriel." He gestured with his head towards Gabriel, who was laughing with his friends. I nodded, and my eyes started burning with unshed tears. Maybe half the reason I didn't talk to him about it was because I didn't want to have to think about it.

I shifted uncomfortably as I sat. "It's okay. I don't really want to talk about it."

"Because it makes you realize we all die, or because it makes you realize how dangerous our situation is?" I looked at him. Why was he being so talkative? He hated Sirius. Why does he want to push? "Perhaps both?" he urged.

"I don't know, Severus."

"If I die—"

"I don't want to talk about it," I interrupted.

"If I die—" he began again.

"I said I didn't want to talk about it!" I spat, glaring at him, knowing that my voice was louder than it should have been.

He stared at me, looking me over. "If I die," he started a third time, this time slower. I opened my mouth and he raised his finger, and I shut up. "I want you and Draco to split my earnings. The house goes to you, obviously. Everything else, you two negotiate on."

"Why are we talking about this? You're not going to die."

"Quit being naïve," he spat. I sat there quietly. "I doubt I'll survive this war, Danielle. I've accepted it. It does not frighten me. I've longed to die since..." he trailed off. Although he was looking at me, I knew who he was seeing.

I pursed my lips and looked away, tears prickling the sides of my eyes. It bugged me that he was so accepting of the fact he might die. The fact he _wanted_ to die. Even though I was his girlfriend, he still wanted to die. Did he even want me? I wasn't jealous of her. But I wanted to at least mean something to him. Maybe I was jealous.

"What am I to you?" I asked quietly, as if someone would overhear although that was impossible. "Don't I make you happy?"

"Of course you do. Longing to die doesn't mean I am unhappy."

"It just means you'd rather... be with her. I'm just something to pass the time until you meet up again in heaven."

"I doubt I'll see her again. I don't belong where she is."

"How can you say that? Of course you do." My vision was blurring and my heart was aching. This was worse than the pain I felt when Sirius died. Or perhaps, it was the same. Perhaps he was just adding to it. I don't know.

He was quiet for awhile. I watched Gabriel play. They were swinging on the swings now, jumping off of them, and tumbling to the ground, scratching up their knees and hands. Their laughs sounded eerie to me.

"You're more to me than just something to pass the time."

"But not enough to keep you wanting to live," I added spitefully.

There was a moment where he didn't say anything. Then he sighed. "I'm sorry."

It was like a stab to the gut. I hated him for not wanting to live. I hated him because he didn't care about how his death would affect me. Maybe he didn't understand. If I cried that much over Sirius' death, if I was still bothered by it, how would it feel to have him die? I hated _her_ too. I hated her for it. I blamed her for it. It was her fault, after all. Why'd she have to go and marry James? She should have married Severus. Then I wouldn't have to be going through this. I knew I was just thinking these things out of anger, but I didn't care. I wished they would have been married, then I would never have dated him. Then he wouldn't want to die.

"Sirius was a fool. He left when I told him to stay. He was a childish man who believed himself to be better than everyone else. He made my life hell… Danielle, I'm sorry I cannot extend my pity to him. I wish that I could. Alas, I am not such a saint." I turned and looked at him, He wasn't looking at me. He was staring off at the playground again. "I tried to feel sorrow. I couldn't."

Hearing him say it didn't make me feel as bad as I thought it would have. In fact, I think it made me feel better. Maybe it relieved the tension. Maybe I wanted Sirius to be a "bad guy" so his death wouldn't be so sad. Or maybe it just wasn't as upsetting to me as what he'd said earlier.

"You hated him. I can't expect you to change how you feel. That's why I didn't talk about it with you. I didn't want you to have to pretend to care."

He obviously heard my annoyance. I don't see how he could have ignored it. My tone was thick with my anger. "I would have," he promised.

I looked away. "You shouldn't have to."

"I don't know what you see in me. You deserve better."

He stood up and left, leaving me sitting there on the grass. He glanced back at the park before he went to the street, and headed in the direction of Spinner's End.

I stood up to follow him, then noticed Gabriel was still playing with his friends. I looked between them, unsure of what to do. In mid laugh, Gabriel saw that Severus was walking away and that I was standing there. Gabriel said something to his friends, then came running over to me. "What's up? You two fighting?"

"Er... I'm not sure..." I mumbled, staring off at Severus' retreating form.

"Dani?" I turned and looked at Gabriel, and he was smiling at me. "Go follow him."

"But... Well, I can't leave you here."

"It's noon, Dani. It's not night time. I just wanted you guys to walk me here 'cause I forget how to get here. No one is gonna kidnap me, and if they do, I'll just use magic to scare them away. I can't get in trouble for using magic until I go to Hogwarts. I know; Severus told me." He rocked on his heels, wearing that smug little smile he got whenever he felt important or intelligent.

"Maybe he wants alone time."

"Maybe he wants alone time with _you."_

He looked him over. He was staring at me knowingly. "What makes you think that?"

"I don't know. Sometimes when I pout and throw a fit and say I never want to talk to anyone ever again I'm just doing it for attention. 'Cause I want you to keep asking me what's wrong. Maybe that's what he's doing?"

"You know, for a seven-year-old, you're really smart."

He chuckled nervously and looked around the park nervously. "Right... okay..." What was that all about?

"I'll come back for you later."

"If report cards come today, read it before I get home," he said quickly, then ran off before I could say anything else.

I don't know what that was about. Gabriel knew report cards for last term were due today. If I didn't know better, his insistence to go to the park alone had something to do with it... And maybe he didn't really think Severus wanted alone time with me, he just wanted me gone...

Shaking my head, I ran up to Severus. He barely glanced at me when I fell into step beside him, but said nothing.

"What's wrong?" I asked finally. I had known him long enough to tell when he was bothered by something. Even without our little heart-warming talk a few minutes ago, I would have known something was up.

"I've been quite plain," he said after a few seconds of thought.

I thought back to what he'd said at the park, then I looped my arm through his, then pressed my head against his upper arm. "You're wrong."

"Am I?" he inquired, and I could hear the hurt in his voice. "I cannot even give you my whole heart, Danielle. I will never love you as I love her. Now tell me you still love me."

"I still love you," I said, ignoring the stab I felt in my chest. Believe me, ignoring the pain he had caused was no easy feat. But I wanted him to understand, and yelling at him would not accomplish that.

"You shouldn't. You deserve someone who can love you entirely. You settle for this because it's all you've ever known. Your mother did not love you. You cling to me and accept what you should not because of this."

"Severus, I don't know how I can make you understand, but I don't care that you love her. I know you'll never love me as much as you love her. And yeah, it hurts. And yeah, maybe I shouldn't be so accepting of that. And sometimes I hate her because of it. You want me to be honest? Fine. But I love you."

"You've been distant. Don't pretend you haven't been."

I felt awkward, and I looked away, although I still held onto his arm and leaned against him. "I know."

"I love you, Danielle. It frightens me. You could leave at any moment... Leave me, and choose to move on—find someone who can... Someone who deserves you."

"I'm not gonna leave you," I said turning my head upwards to look at him. He wasn't looking at me, but resolutely ahead. He was obviously having a hard time talking about this. But he was talking about it. It wasn't like he opened up to everyone, so I felt a little surge of pleasure from it. Perhaps it was inappropriate, but I did.

"How you reacted towards Sirius' death..."

"I didn't have feelings for him, if that's what you think. And yeah, maybe I have been distant. Maybe that has something to do with his death. But you have to understand, Severus, I cared about him more than I cared about my mum. And... And even though I don't want to admit it, she deserved what she got. As horrible as that sounds. She wanted it, though. Sirius didn't. Sirius never... Got to be free, I guess. He never lived, before he died. And it's not... It's not fair that he had to go." My throat clogged up and my voice cracked, my eyes burning.

Severus was quiet for a moment, and I blinked the tears away, wetness sliding down my cheeks.

"I don't wanna die, Severus," I croaked, the tears burning hotter. "And... And I don't want you to die, either. If he could go—and it was stupid! He fell through a veil! No—no grandeur, no blood, no epic—epic monologues or some—some important revelation or anything! He was just... Gone! He was there, laughing, dueling with me one second, and then I left and he was dead! It hurt me so much! I've never felt pain like that, not ever before, and... And I know that if you were to die, what I felt with Sirius is nothing—nothing—compared to what I would feel for you, and one day, you _will_ die, 'cause we all do, and—and I'll have to live without you, or you'll have to live without me, and—and I don't want us to live without each other, it's so stupid! Death is so bloody stupid! If he could go so... so could we! And I don't want us to!"

I was sobbing into his arm when I spoke, and it was like gates opened and I realized all the tension that had been building. Although it made me feel less tense, saying it out loud made me realize something—I was afraid of dying. I'd killed a few people, and their lives had just ended, and they didn't deserve it—and one day, my life would end, too. And one day, Severus would die. Probably before me (he was older, after all, although I suppose that was no guarantee) and I didn't want to have to think about it.

He pulled me into a sideways hug, which was a bit awkward since we were both walking, but I didn't mind it too much. I felt him kiss the top of my head. Although I was still crying, I was a bit calmer, breathing heavily, tears streaming down my face, while I imagined Sirius' eyes sparkling while he laughed. Had he been laughing when he died? I hoped he had been... I'd want him to die looking like he did when he laughed...

We walked with me sniffling into his robes, fear filling me so intense it made me nauseous for awhile, before it ebbed away and I just held onto him. We walked in silence for quite awhile, nearing our home, my sobs slowly ebbing as did the sadness and fear.

"We will die, Danielle. Why should you fear what everyone does? It is the only thing we know for certain. It is life, and the events in it, that are truly frightening..." I looked up at him, knowing I looked like a wet rat, and he finally met my gaze.

"I wish I... that I was like you. That I wasn't afraid. You long for it. I wish I did too."

He shook his head and brushed my red hair from my face. "No you don't." He kissed my forehead, and I felt warmer. When was the last time we'd really kissed? The fact that I couldn't remember made my chest ache.

"If you were to die, Danielle... I would not handle it well. Losing you... frightens me. I swore I wouldn't let... myself love again, and I have. I may long for death, but... you make me... happy. I don't deserve that. I don't think I... let you know as much as I should. But you could go at any moment—leave me, or die. Or... I could die. Before, my death would affect no one—with the exception of perhaps Dumbledore, but I assure you I am merely a tool to him. But the fact that somebody would be left behind, distraught—far worse than how you were with Sirius—is a horrible thought. I don't want to leave anybody crying. I don't want you, or anybody, to feel what... Losing a loved one feels like. Especially over someone who doesn't deserve it." It was like he was wrenching the words out of him, like saying them pained him.

I stared at him. "I'm sorry. But... That's what I would feel if you died. I would cry. I think I'd be lost without you. Imagining life without you is... is hell. I couldn't handle it. But one day... one of us will." His black eyes were glistening slightly with moisture, but I knew he wasn't going to cry. He rarely did. "I'm sorry you thought I was going to leave you."

"I've come accustomed to it. I shouldn't naturally assume that every time you are annoyed with me or distant that you'll leave."

"No, you shouldn't."

"Even if you deserve better."

"Maybe it's not for you to decide who I love, did you ever think about that?" I snapped slightly, suddenly irritated. The fact he would say that insulted me for some reason. He glanced down at me, and I pulled away from him so as to get a better look into his face. I wiped away my tears angrily. "Whether or not you think I deserve better, it's not for you to decide what I think, and if I wanna be with you, then I'm going to be with you. I love you, and I don't give a shit what anyone else thinks about it, even if that includes you. I don't give a damn about—about whether or not you love anybody else more than me. Life isn't some fairytale fantasy, and I'm not an idiot and I don't expect little frilly, fluffy little schoolgirl dreams. We don't all ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after a passionate kiss and get married and have kids and have a perfect, carefree existence. I'm not a child. This is reality, not a bedtime story. We don't live in a Disney flick."

Even though I'd been practically scolding him, he was staring at me like I'd said something rather romantic. He looked me over with a small smile on his face, shook his head as if exasperated, although he was clearly amused, then he turned and started walking off.

I fell into step beside him, my arm folded and lips pursed. He was so difficult sometimes.

Severus started humming "Paint It Black" again, and because there weren't any other sounds, I could hear it clearly. He had a rather low voice, and it did amazing things to me just listening to it. How was it I never noticed he hummed before? Did he just not do it often?

I kept shooting glances at him. Listening to him hum made butterflies flap energetically in my stomach. I think he knew it too, because every time I glanced at him he had a small smile on his face.

I stayed silent with my arms folded, just listening to him, all the way until we made it to Spinner's End. When we got there, there was mail on the floor underneath the mail slot. He bent down and picked it up, sifting through the mail. I kept staring at him, watching his eyes read over the envelopes while he sifted through them. I noticed that we had an envelope from the school. He walked over to the table and I followed him like a puppy, listening to his hums get a bit louder. He set aside the bills and junk mail, then held the envelope containing Gabriel's report card.

"And I want it painted black..." he sang quietly, me staring at his mouth, and hearing him say those words seemed to ignite something in me.

I threw myself at him and pressed my lips against his firmly. He was paralyzed while I kissed him, apparently shocked. I didn't care. Kissing him now was like kissing him the first time, and every nerve in me seemed to go crazy.

He tossed the envelope aside and gathered me up in his arms, pulling me nearer to him, deepening the kiss. When his tongue swept into my mouth, I moaned. His hands were hot through my robes while he groped me, feeling his hands roaming over my whole body, and I pressed harder again him, knowing that my moans sounded a bit needy but I didn't care. Kissing him made all the fear and pain and sadness disappear, and replaced it with a throbbing want and warmth that I hadn't felt for awhile.

I realized that we were going to be alone, in this house, during the summer, several times, and that we would be able to kiss wherever we pleased however we wanted, and that sent shivers through my spine.

It wasn't until a few seconds later that I realized we were clumsily going to the bedroom, running into walls, with him pressing me against them for periods of time, attacking my mouth with his, clutching onto my robes as my hands encircled him, running my fingers across his back, pulling him nearer.

When I felt the doorknob in my back, I let out a gasp of pain, then grabbed the knob and twisted it, trying to open the door, as if life itself lay beyond it, and I needed to get in there that instant. As soon as the door opened behind me, he lunged at me and I wrapped my arms around him, kissing him harder, nibbling his bottom lip.

His kisses were hot, and my body was hot, and his hands through my robes were like fire. I wanted his body pressed against mine constantly; I wanted to feel him against me always.

We were walking backwards until my knees hit the mattress .I fell backwards and bounced on the mattress, and he was standing at the foot of the bed, staring at me, fire in his black eyes. I reached up and grabbed the front of his robes and pulled him down on top of me, and we crawled onto the bed fully, his mouth finding my neck and suckling, sweeps of pleasure going through me.

His hand slid up my thigh and I arched against him, the feeling of his fingers against my skin there making me tingle. Although his hand was at a respectful distance, I felt a throb—a very powerful throb—and I moaned when his teeth bit down into my skin of my neck.

"Tell me when to stop," he murmured against my flesh, his fingers inching towards a place no one but me had ever ventured. Each centimetre he grew closer, the shivers and pleasure grew more intense.

"Okay," I moaned, my back arching, my legs wrapping around his waist, and I thrust forward, forcing his fingers closer.

He grunted and his moist lips found mine, bringing my bottom lip, nibbling slightly. "You'll tell me what to do?" he whispered against my mouth, his voice reverberating through me. I realized that he'd never gone further than heavy kissing, and I wondered if he was worried about doing horribly.

"Yes," I moaned, then grabbed his wrist, and closed the distance.

* * *

A/N--thank you to my wonderful beta Edgar A Poe!

I swear that I had uploaded this chapter Saturday, but when I checked, I hadn't. I apologize!

Oh, and I forgot to mention--January 30th was Lily Evans' birthday. Happy birthday, Lily! Also, February 3rd was my mom's birthday! Happy birthday, mom!


	52. Chapter 55

I lied there, gasping, the aftershocks of pleasure fading slightly.

Severus was a god when it came to anything to do with his hands. I'd watch his hands fly over essays that he corrected, and been mesmerized by them. He was great at drawing pictures, and the few little poems I'd read through earlier that day were good, too. Now I had one more thing to stare at his hands for.

It was a good thing Gabriel had stayed at the park, because I wasn't a very quiet person when it came to being pleasured. If he'd heard anything, I'm sure he would have been scarred.

Severus was lying beside me, nuzzling the side of my head, kissing my hair, my neck, my face... His lips were soft and moist, and he kissed me gently. His hand brushed across my abdomen or down my thigh, reminding me of the pleasure I'd just had a few moments earlier.

"That was... really, really amazing," I said, almost breathlessly.

"Was it?" he inquired before nibbling my neck.

I scoffed and turned on my side, looking him in the eyes. "You know it was." I leaned forward and kissed him gently on the mouth, feeling butterflies.

"I feared I would be... lacking." He kissed me softly and I smiled against his mouth. "I suppose I have you to thank for your help."

"I don't remember telling you to do anything."

"Well, you're so responsive, you see." I chuckled. He was pretty good at reading my body language. Then again, I wasn't very shy with my reactions. I made it obvious as to what I liked by how I moved and moaned. "I had never done that before. I thought I wouldn't compare to..."

I furrowed my eyebrows, not understanding what he was saying for a moment, then I swatted his arm playfully. All right, so perhaps Draco had been good. But that drunken fumbling had been nothing compared to Severus fingering me. In fact, I'd even forgotten about that little interlude between us. I narrowed my eyes at him. "Yeah, well, you were, like, eight times better."

"The way you sounded, I would hazard a guess at something higher than 'eight times' Danielle."

I chuckled, then brushed his hair away from his eyes. Those eyes could really burn through me. We stared into each other's eyes while I continued to brush his hair away from his face, staring at him. "A hundred times," I corrected, before flicking my tongue against his bottom lip and securing my mouth over his.

"That sounds more accurate."

I laughed a little and he smiled briefly at me. He was humming quietly again, and it did wonderful things to me, listening to it.

"I have to pee," I grumbled, sitting up. I wished I didn't have to, because I didn't want to leave the bed.

As I got off the bed, he sighed. "Do take your time."

I looked at him as I situated my robes into a more comfortable position. I stood there, looking down at him, confused. That had been an odd request. "Huh?" I mumbled, then noticed the state of his robes. More specifically, the bulge in front. I understood immediately. "Oh! Sorry, I didn't—" An idea struck me, and I smirked at him. "I could repay the favour..."

"Hmm, that sounds lovely. Let's discuss that more when you're finished in the loo."

I couldn't help but grin as I left the room, feeling excited for some reason. More excited than what was necessary. I hurried down the hall and used the bathroom as quickly as possible, checking myself in the mirror. My eyes were still a little red and puffy from when I'd cried earlier, but my lips were swollen with kisses, and the state of my robes was, well, rumpled and wrinkled. My hair was a mess, all bunched up in the back and sticking out in odd places. I ran my fingers through my red hair and tried to make myself look as attractive as quickly as I could. I still looked like I'd just got down with a frantic snog in a broom closet, but I didn't care. I wanted to repay the favour, as it were. It sounded like a fun idea.

With a giggle, I jerked open the bathroom door and stepped out into the hallway.

And I screamed.

My wand was out a second later, but I managed to stop myself from saying the first hex that came to my mind as soon as I saw who it was. Of course, Severus came bounding out of the room, wand out, which only embarrassed me further when he saw who I had screamed at.

"Damn you, Wormtail," Severus grumbled.

"I thought you knew I was coming, Severus?" he asked with a furrowed brow.

"I wasn't expecting you until this evening," he admitted, glaring daggers at him. He seemed a bit angrier than I would have expected, but then again, he did interrupt my favour to him. Wormtail, who I recognized as the weird man who served the Dark Lord his food and was more of a whipping boy than a Death Eater, withered underneath Severus' glare. I remember the Dark Lord telling me (when I had killed my mother) that Wormtail couldn't even perform the Killing Curse his first time, and he did worse than I had. "Did you just arrive?" Severus asked, folding his arms over his chest. Severus was no longer erect, or at least it didn't look like it, and I wondered if he'd used a spell before coming out here.

"I've been here for awhile. You two sounded, um, busy," he mumbled.

Well that's embarrassing. Severus seemed to think so too, because his lips pursed and he shifted his weight onto his other foot.

"I'll show you to your room. You are not to leave this room without express permission, do you understand?"

"But—"

"Do you understand?" he repeated more firmly.

Wormtail nodded and accepted his fate far sooner than I expected. I think he was a wimp. But, then again, Severus was giving him some really nasty glares.

Severus showed him to his room—which was behind the book shelf, up in the room we'd cleaned earlier that day.

When Severus returned—without Wormtail—he let out a long sigh. "Well. That was unfortunate timing," he grumbled.

"Not technically. He was here before, um... now." Severus raised an eyebrow at me, obviously amused. Although it was somewhat embarrassing, knowing that Wormtail had heard me (it was impossible for him not to have) it did somewhat turn me on. I don't know why. "Well, at least no one will be able to say you can't satisfy me. He heard it quite plainly that you can."

He smirked at me.

The door opened and Gabriel walked in, and I felt a little let down. Oh well. We could try later tonight. He looked at the mail on the table, and his face fell slightly. "I'm going to my room," he mumbled, then hurriedly went down the hallway.

Severus furrowed his eyebrows and focused on the mail. He calmly walked over to the envelope that held Gabriel's report card—the one he'd tossed aside when I'd thrown myself at him. He opened it, and I watched as his expression grew grimmer as he read on.

"Gabriel!" he shouted, loud enough for him to hear although he was in his room. When I looked at him quizzically, he handed me the report card, and I saw what he'd been upset about. Gabriel had extremely low scores. He had barley passed his classes, and the teacher had stapled a note saying that Gabriel was frequently disruptive and talkative.

I think I know why he'd wanted me to follow Severus.

Gabriel came into the living room tentatively. He looked at the report card in my hands, and gave me a rather charming smile as his blue eyes sparkled magnificently. How did he make his eyes sparkle like that? It was so cute...

"Your marks are... unpleasant," Severus said with a small sneer. Gabriel turned his cute expression to Severus, who was apparently immune. "Explain."

Gabriel sighed, frustrated that his trick didn't work. "Well, fine. Guess what? I'm not a muggle. So why should I care about muggle school? I'm not graduating a muggle. I'm going to go to Hogwarts. So math and history and geography and reading lessons, well, that's all just a waste of time."

"No it's not, Gabriel," I said, handing Severus the grades .Severus glanced at them again, then put them on the table. "And it's not just the grades I'm worried about. The teacher said you're talking in class and being disruptive and all of that. And going to Hogwarts when you're eleven is no excuse to slack off."

"What does it matter, Dani? Learning to read, I get. But everything else? It's stupid! I'm a half-blood. I shouldn't even be going to school. It's stupid. And pointless."

"It's not pointless, Gabriel," Severus said, folding his arms, and glaring at him.

Gabriel withered under his glare for a second, then he jutted out his chin and gave him a haughty look. "Well it's hard. Why should I try to do something I don't even want to do when it's hard and I'm not even gonna finish anyway?"

Severus narrowed his black eyes. "Because it may help you in Hogwarts; more than you might think. If you cannot even do you muggle schoolwork, why should I believe you'll actually try at Hogwarts?"

"Because that's where I belong! What do you guys know, huh? What do you know about muggle schools! You guys are wizards! You don't even know what I'm talking about!"

"Newsflash, Gabriel—I went to a muggle school. My dad insisted," I said, folding my arms across my chest.

"As did mine," Severus added. I looked at him. I couldn't remember him ever mentioning primary school to me before, although it did make sense. "You are grounded for a week."

"What? You can't ground me in the summer!" Gabriel shrieked, stamping his foot.

"Two weeks, then," he said with a sneer.

Gabriel stammered, then scoffed. "Fine. Whatever. See if I care. I just won't talk to you ever again. I hate both of you."

Although I knew Gabriel was just talking out of anger, for some reason, that really hurt my feelings. I wanted to cry. I wanted to tell Severus to let this pass and to un-ground him. And as ludicrous as his threat of never talking to me again was, it still felt like he meant it, and I furrowed my eyebrows.

"As fascinating as your attempt to manipulate us is, we need to have a discussion. You will attend primary school until you are eleven—or until the September afterwards—and you will try. We are not disappointed in your low scores so much as the fact you aren't trying, Gabriel, as well as your disruptive behaviour. In the future, if you are having a difficulty, you will come to one of us. I am sure we are more than capable of assisting."

Gabriel was glaring daggers at both of us, looking like he'd rather murder us than listen to our lecture. "Whatever. I'm going to my room, since I'm grounded and can't do anything anyway."

"You are not. We have another topic to discuss." He pointed his wand at the bookshelf. "_Muffliato_," he murmured. _Muffliato_ was a useful spell—it prevented any eavesdroppers from actually hearing anything due to a buzzing sound that filled their ears. Gabriel looked confused, but said nothing. "Our guest has finally arrived. Earlier than I expected, but he is here nonetheless."

"Oh..." Gabriel muttered, looking at the bookshelf. We'd gone over protocol with Gabriel. We weren't to speak about the Order or anyone in it at all, and as far as Wormtail was concerned, Gabriel was Tobias' lovechild with one of Eileen's witch friends. Gabriel glared at the bookshelf with hatred. "So _Wormtail_ showed then? I think we should poison him in his sleep. I hate him. But for real. Not like how I hate you guys 'cause I'm mad. But I really am mad at you."

"How do you know Wormtail? I mean, he didn't... he didn't see you or anything?" I asked, furrowing my brows at him. Gabriel was intuitive at times, but it didn't make sense he would know someone's character before actually seeing the guy.

They both looked at me strangely, as if I'd said something rather stupid. "No, duh. You know who he is, right?"

"What?" I muttered, looking between them. Severus seemed to be thinking rather hard, but I couldn't fathom why. "What do you mean? I know who he is, yeah. He's just a weird guy that follows the Dark Lord around. I mean, yeah, he... He seems familiar, I guess, but I never really thought about it or anything."

"His name never sounded familiar to you when the Dark Lord spoke it?" Severus asked slowly.

I went to reply that it didn't, but then I remember that his name had rung a bell, like I'd heard it before but couldn't remember where. I furrowed my eyebrows. "Now that you mention it, yeah."

"Wormtail is Peter. You know, Pettigrew. The guy who framed... uh, Sirius," Gabriel said, his voice lowering on Sirius' name as if it were a swear word.

Even though I didn't remember the actual time Sirius had ever said his name, I knew that's where I had heard it. I blinked a few times, realising that Wormtail was the one who had betrayed Lily and James. It suddenly made sense why Severus had glared at him as he had.

Thinking about Sirius made me upset again, but I managed to just blink away my feelings. "Oh. Well. The backstabber is living with us. How wonderful." I did not, however, manage to keep all of my feelings out of my tone.

"I thought for sure you'd known," Severus said quietly, looking me over. I just shrugged. I guess I wasn't really that observant. Then again, it's not like Sirius ever waxed poetic about Wormtail. No, he mostly went on and on about James (who he sometimes called Prongs) and Lupin. Sometimes I ever forget there had been four Marauders.

I pursed my lips. I wasn't mad at Severus or Gabriel, but the fact that Peter bloody Pettigrew was living in the same house as us made me furious. It must have shown, because Gabriel excused himself and went to his room, and Severus looked rather concerned.

"I guess I just didn't pay attention," I grumbled, then turned around and left the living room, immediately going to our room and slamming the door behind myself. I strolled over to the bed but did not sit on it, just folded my arms and stared at the mattress.

A few seconds later, the door opened. I turned around and looked at the entrant—Severus. He shut it quietly behind himself, then leaned against the door, folding his arms. He didn't have to talk in order for me to understand what he wanted to say—he wanted to know if I was all right.

"You know, that bastard doesn't deserve to live. He betrayed his best friends—he is the reason Lily's dead—and he framed his other best friend, and you know what? He's not the one being shoved through a veil, is he? No, he gets to live on happily with his stupid silver hand. It's not bloody fair. Sirius didn't deserve death. And Wormtail does. Out of all the people Bellatrix could have stunned and out of all the people who could have fallen through the veil, why couldn't it have been Wormtail?" Although I was angry, my tone wasn't raised. It was clipped, but not raised.

Severus sighed, then stopped leaning against the door, he came over to me, and pulled me into a hug. My eyes burned, but I didn't let any tears drop. I was more angry than sad, anyway. He rubbed my back, then kissed the top of my head. "Because life has the unfortunate habit of being unfair, Danielle. There is no other explanation. And whilst I cannot agree with you that Sirius didn't deserve what he got—" I bristled slightly, although I understood exactly where he was coming from. "—he did deserve to live more than the rat."

I scoffed into his chest, agreeing with him. He was right on that. Sirius deserved to live more than Peter, even if he was a prat to Severus all throughout Hogwarts.

"It just seems so... pointless. I sat in Umbridge's office, holding onto Ginny Weasley just so she could stamp on my foot and elbow me, and Harry went off searching for him even though he wasn't kidnapped, and all for what? For him to die. Sirius went to save his idiot godson, just to die. It just doesn't seem... like it mattered. We did all that for nothing."

He rubbed my back some more, and I felt him sigh.

I pulled my head away form his chest and looked at him, although I kept my arms around his back. "You know, I can't even remember what his last words to me were? I can't remember what I said to him, either. It wasn't anything epic, I know that—it wasn't anything mean, but it wasn't anything really nice, either. But... I just feel like I should remember whatever it was, at least."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm not sure I want to tell you what my last words to him were."

Despite the situation, I chuckled a little. "I'm not sure I want to hear it." He brushed my red hair from my face, and I furrowed my eyebrows. "I should have killed her. I should have killed her when no one was looking. I could have done it without anyone knowing."

"Not without risking the chance someone would see it. You acted as you should have. You've secured the Dark Lord's trust in you. Killing Bellatrix could have resulted in your death."

Even though I knew he was right, I wished that he wasn't. "Yeah... Still, though, I was bowing at the Dark Lord's feet and telling him the Prophecy broke while he was off dying... Seems like, I don't know, disrespect or something. And Ginny Weasley saw me without my mask, so she knows I was there. I didn't want them seeing me."

Severus furrowed his brows briefly. "That was probably for the best. The more people who believe your loyalty lies with the Dark Lord, the better. And I'm sure Potter will believe whatever Miss Weasley says." He snarled, seemingly lost in an unpleasant thought.

And mentioning Ginny brought up a thought of my own.

"Er... when I was, uh... Holding Ginny, I noticed that... Well, she does resemble Lily a bit. You know, the red hair... She's a bit poplar, too, like Lily... I mean, I'm not saying you'd ever... have romantic thoughts about her or anything, but I mean . . . I couldn't help but notice the similarities. Did you ever... I mean, I was here already, I'm two years ahead of her, so maybe I looked more like her so you didn't notice it or something, but... I was just wondering if you did, is all."

He looked away from me briefly, before meeting my eyes again. "I did notice." He paused for a moment, then brushed away my hair, eyeing the strand as he did so. "I never thought romantically of her... But I couldn't help but notice certain, ah, physical and personality aspects she shared with her... You must remember I wasn't fond of you until your first year. I thought you were pretentious, and spoiled, and quite full of yourself. An attention seeker, as it were. I did not, however, dislike her. But I never thought of her as intensely as I thought of you. You do, obviously, resemble Lily more."

I nodded, understanding. "Yeah, but her personality..."

"I'm not going to leave you for her," he said, and I couldn't tell if he was joking or not. And I realized that I had been worrying about that, at least subconsciously. Ginny was, admittedly, prettier than I was. I hadn't even realized I'd been worrying about it until he mentioned it, though. Maybe it was because I didn't want to think about it.

"Okay," I murmured, feeling stupid for even thinking it, however subconsciously.

"Your resemblance may have... caught my interest at first, but that is not why I'm with you."

"I nodded. "I know. I just couldn't help but wonder if... Well, if you ever noticed it."

"If you knew how many girls I've taught who shared at least one thing in common with Lily, you'd realize the absurdity of your statement. There have been several. Ginny Weasley was just one of them. I haven't dated every girl who happened to remind me of her."

I felt even stupider when he mentioned that. There were plenty of people who had red hair or green eyes, or perhaps both. Perhaps I looked more like her in the face because of my relation more than anyone else, but still, it had been stupid of me to even dwell on it. I was probably the only one who still resembled Lily even after using a glamour spell on my eye colour and dying my hair.

"Although," he began slowly, eyes focusing on something far away, "I remember how... when she was taken into the Chamber... I was clutching the chair so tightly my knuckles were white... I realize it was her resemblance I cared about, and that was why I felt so..."

I remember the whole thing with the Chamber of Secrets my third year. I hadn't even remembered Ginny had been taken until just now.

"Oh..."

He looked at me, then brushed my hair away again. "I assure you, Danielle, I did not volunteer to house Wormtail. I don't want him here any more than you do. The Dark Lord is not pleased with him—unlike me, he had no reason to be absent at the Ministry. I'm sure Lucius was not too disheartened at the fact—he's not very fond of him—but seeing as his Lucius' plan failed so miserably... I can assure you, the Dark Lord will not be his normal, pleasant self."

I let out a sigh. When the Dark Lord wasn't happy, nobody was. Least of all Bellatrix. And I really, really didn't like the thought of her unhappy. The Dark Lord had grabbed her before he left the Ministry—it was in the _Prophet—_so it was obvious to me that he cared (for lack of a better term) about her more than his normal minion. So they were inclined to agree on many of the same things. And even though the Dark Lord was terrifying, so was Bellatrix. And I cringed at the thought of her doing whatever she could to make her master happy.

"I suppose we'll burn that bridge when we come to it," I grumbled.

"There's not much else we can do, I suppose."

I let out a sigh, then looked at him. He stared at me for awhile, then I leaned up and kissed him gently. "Thank you," I whispered before I kissed him again.

"For what?" he asked, pressing his mouth to mine. Just one peck made me feel so much better.

"I don't know. For everything. For... talking to me on the way here, for, well... fingering me..." I felt stupid for saying it so bluntly, but I couldn't think of how else I would say it. Even though I was blushing, he didn't seem to be affected by my word choice. "For... for understanding about Sirius, and for... Well, not being all angry about me wondering about Ginny..."

He chuckled, smiling thinly. "I have no room to reprimand your jealousy. If you knew how often I was jealous of Draco..."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "You know, if you didn't keep bringing it up, I might actually forget about that. It's not like I want to remember. He's like my brother, which, well... ew." I shuddered at the memory, and felt bile rise in my throat. Obviously if the memory made me sick he had nothing to worry about. "In fact, I _did_ forget it. You were that good."

"Was I?" he said with a touch of irony, smirking.

I narrowed my eyes at him, although I was smiling. "Oh you know you were. It's not like I'm particularly quiet."

He leaned forward to whisper something in my ear, but he said nothing. He gently nibbled my ear lobe as I wrapped my arms around him tighter. Once again, he managed to take my bad mood and change it in the matter of seconds. When he started humming that song, I closed my eyes and smiled. "Are you trying to seduce me?" I breathed.

"Depends on if it's working..."

I arched against him when I felt his lips on my neck. I decided to follow his lead, and I bent down and brought the flesh of his neck into my mouth, doing what he'd done to me a thousand times before, but I had never done to him.

He grunted and I dragged my teeth against his flesh, relishing how he clutched me and brought me nearer. I suckled again, and he moaned, just as I ran the tips of my fingers down his spine.

I brought my hands to his chest, splaying them across the fabric, while I continued to kiss his neck. I rubbed his chest slowly and gently, listening to his breath rate increase. I could feel his arousal pressing against me, and I smiled against his skin. I felt a small pulse of pleasure and excitement when I slowly brought my hand down, getting the tiniest, quietest of laughs when my fingers went across his abdomen. So he was ticklish… How interesting.

I ran my fingers upwards, going across his abdomen again, and I got the same response. I pulled away from his neck and smirked at him. He was staring at me with fire in his eyes, and a moment later, his lips were on mine, hot and demanding.

I was having a very interesting day.

I trailed kisses along his jaw line and then bit gently on the other side of his neck, and he groaned, thrusting against me slightly. Remembering the pleasure he'd given me (less than twenty minutes ago) I moaned a little too, then brought my hand back down across his abdomen, suckling his neck. I grasped the bulge in the front of his pants, holding it.

As soon as my hand went over it, he hissed slightly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to—" I began, pulling away from him to look into his fiery eyes.

"Don't stop," he responded before kissing me hungrily.

So I suppose I got to repay the favour after all. Good thing I had the presence of mind to use _muffliato_ against the door, because I didn't know if Severus was loud or not. I would soon find out.


	53. Chapter 56

Chapter 56: Darkness

Revels. That's what they called this. That's what _we_ called this. It was hard for me to remember I was a Death Eater sometimes.

And apparently they were a _reward._

After the debacle at the ministry, I think it was safe to say that the Dark Lord was displeased. Everybody who was at the Ministry got a nice spot of Crucio. Including me. But that didn't mean he was angry at all of us; at least that's what he said. And to prove that he wasn't angry at all of us, he held a revel for those he deemed worthy.

There were only three people there. Severus, Bellatrix, and myself.

Whenever there was a revel to be had, the Dark Lord planned it. There may be much to say about the Dark Lord, but he wasn't impulsive. He planned, and had backup plans, and plans that made it look like he was planning something else that had nothing to do with what he was really planning. This is called misdirection.

Whenever there was a 'revel' that he planned, it was up to Severus and me to tell Dumbledore. Then Dumbledore would have to decide whether or not to warn the area beforehand, get Aurors ready, or somehow stop the revel. A naïve person would ask; "Well, why can't he stop all of them?"

Let's think about this one, idiot. If every single revel gets stopped, then he'll know that there's a spy in his faithful group of Death Eaters, and he'll stop telling us. Saving some is better than saving none. I am so glad I'm not the one who gets to make that decision. That's all I have to say about it.

There was a giant fire in the middle of a street, and we were dangling muggles in the air by their ankles, spinning them, dropping them to the hard asphalt . . . Giving them bouts of crucio, slicing them with _sectumsempra_ . . . I'd tortured several people in my day, so that I was good at. I would even bring forth memories of their lives--horrible, embarrassing, private memories--and make them relive it. There was no click this time. Oh no, I was taking out all of my anger on these people. I was so furious that I didn't even need the click. I just tortured them. The more I tortured them, the more willing they were to die, and I would no longer have a guilty conscience. At least, that's what I told myself at the moment, I know as soon as this was over I'd go home to Spinner's End and get queasy and bitchy. But not now--now I just revelled in the fact I wasn't having any qualms about it--revelling in the fact that I was taking out my frustrations because they were just pillows to me--pillows to punch. Like the mirror I punched last year. Even though punching that glass hurt me and all logic in my head should have told me it would, I did it anyway in my anger. And so, I used my anger to get me through this otherwise unbearable situation.

I was in a place I'd never been before. A dark, sadistic place. I found myself grinning at times, feeling a surge of pleasure when I heard a man scream. The fact that he kept trying to escape--that he kept talking back to me--was what I think I liked. He didn't give up. He kept fighting. I admired that. But right now, I just needed him to feel all the pain and rage that I was going through. These muggles had no idea what I had to do to survive . . . They needed to feel it . . .

Sirius was dead--and I actually cared for him. I think I actually cared for him more than I cared for my own mother, and I barely even knew him. I killed my mother. I was a murderer. And I may as well have killed Sirius. He didn't deserve death. I did, though. How could I do these things--and somewhat enjoy it, at the moment at least--and not deserve to die?

It was the anger at the Dark Lord, at my situation, at Sirius dying, that kept me torturing them, that kept me slicing them, blood splattering, watching muggle children fall from the sky and hit the ground with a sickening thwack.

I was laughing like Bellatrix. It was a dark laugh; a malicious laugh. I yelled out whenever I did something particularly nasty, like cheering at a damn Quidditch game. All that I felt on the inside came out. It was cathartic. As screwed up as that sounds, it was actually relieving my stress.

I wondered how Severus got through all of this. Did he go to this dark place like I did, or did he have to find the click? Was I evil because I was enjoying myself? Was I really even me, or someone else? An alter ego? If I had an alter ego, I'd name her . . . Betty.

But that doesn't work. I can't do it. It _is_ me. I can't disassociate myself from this. I can't. What the hell is wrong with me? I envy people who can tear themselves away so easily.

My eyes caught Severus, and he had a curiously blank expression, and he didn't yell out or laugh. He was just going through the motions. There wasn't a single emotion on his face--none at all. Except for when he looked at me--I saw a flicker of something there, but I couldn't discern what it was.

This was my first revel. I got to go because I told the Dark Lord the prophecy broke. Severus got to go because he thought quickly, and knew that going to the ministry would jeopardize his position. Bellatrix got to go because she was the only one who managed to kill anybody.

Bellatrix's laugh echoed mine--or did mine echo hers?--and her dark hair flew around her head and in front of her sparkling dark eyes. Even though she was just a hollow shell of how she was before, she was still beautiful, in an eerie way.

After awhile, we started killing off those we tortured, simply because we couldn't do it forever. When the last person fell dead, I felt oddly . . . still angry, like the energy was still thrumming through my veins, like I still needed to release my anger. That dark, sadistic urge was still filling me.

Bellatrix came over to me, and her smile faded slightly. She looked me over. "So you think you're special because you saw the prophecy break? Aww, wittle baby Dani got a wittle tweat! Aww!" she mocked in a baby voice.

"Well maybe if you'd kept your eye on the objective instead of shooting your cousin to get back at him for whatever the hell . . ."

"I wasn't aiming to kill!" she shouted, suddenly in my face. "If I purposely killed him, trust me, it would be after long bouts of torture! That bastard doesn't deserve an easy way out! It just happened that he died at my hands in a fortunate turn of event. Serendipity, if you will. I didn't mean to kill him--it was just luck. I didn't aim to kill because I wanted him to suffer!"

"Or maybe you didn't aim to kill 'cause you actually care about him," I spat at her, smirking.

"I don't care for filthy blood traitors!" I smiled at her, and she looked at my eyes, as if stunned to see them. She blinked a few times. "You were fighting him too. Why didn't you kill him off?"

"I guess he's a good duellist. Must run in the family," I muttered with a shrug. She looked confused at my comment. Even though every fibre in being wanted to kill her for being responsible in Sirius' death, I knew that showing sadness at that would give away my position. "What? I have to give you credit for offing the bastard."

She didn't seem to know how to respond to that, so she pointed a manicured finger right in my face. "Just because you saw the Prophecy break doesn't mean you're any more special than before. I went to Azkaban for him! Something your precious little boyfriend can't say!"

"Give it up, will you?" I snapped. Bellatrix had been giving me glares ever since the incident, or making snide comments in my direction. "Everybody knows you're the Dark Lord's favourite. He grabbed you before he ran off, didn't he? Do you think he would've done that for anyone else?" My tone reflected the darkness and anger that was inside me.

I expected her to yell or insult me, but instead a smile broke out across her face. She started laughing, and I smiled warily at her. Her laugh was creepy. Hell, everything about her creepy. The rage and sadistic urge I was feeling and my hatred for her was too deep for me to laugh with her.

Her dark eyes flashed when a shark-like grin spread across her face. "I can see why the Dark Lord likes you so much," she stated.

Then she grabbed my head, and kissed me.

I expected it to be quick and platonic like the last time, but this time, she didn't pull away. I stood there, hands at my sides, my fist clenching my wand. What was she doing? Wasn't she married? Wasn't she obsessed with the Dark Lord? She attacked my mouth hungrily, tongue licking from the bottom of my mouth to the top of my mouth seductively, then bringing in my bottom lip, suckling on that, pulling me closer, smiling . . .

I opened my mouth and allowed her access into my mouth, allowing her to kiss me ferociously, and I responded, feeling that dark emotion swell up within me. Just as it was getting passionate, I bit down on her bottom lip. Blood filled my mouth, bitter and coppery, and I stared into her dark eyes.

She pulled away, the blood smearing her mouth. She looked at me. "Sorry, Bella," I said with a sneer, "I'm with someone."

I waited for the crucio or at least a smack.

Instead, she smiled. Blood tickled slightly down her jaw, across the smeared part. She gave my cheek a little slap, then spun on the spot and Disapparated.

I turned around and saw Severus staring at me strangely. It looked like he had been striding towards us when the argument started, but had stopped when we started kissing. His brows were furrowed and his mouth was open slightly in shock. "Danielle?" he inquired curiously.

I wiped the blood off of my mouth and wiggled my fingers at him, giggling. I licked the blood off my fingers, then grinned. "Showed her, didn't I?"

He blinked a few times, as if I'd said something in a language he didn't understand. "The Aurors will be here any moment. These wards won't last much longer."

"Wards?" I questioned, wiping some more of Bellatrix's blood off of my chin, and licking my fingers some more. It was mainly to clean off my face, but it was sorta cool, knowing that _I_ made Bellatrix Lestrange bleed. My body was still thrumming.

"How else do you think you got away with this? You still have the Trace, Danielle. In fact, I wouldn't trust the wards at all at this point--we'll have to use Side-Along Apparation." He stuck out him arm and I went over to him and grabbed his elbow.

He looked down at my face, furrowed his eyebrows, then brushed away some of my hair. He looked me over, as if trying to find something but I don't know what, then with the sickening squeezing sensation and the pop, I found myself in Spinner's End.

Gabriel was on the couch, and Wormtail was beside him. When Wormtail stood, I snarled at him. Wormtail smiled at me, his watery eyes lingering on me for a few seconds, then he barely glanced at Severus before he frowned.

"Go to your room," Severus ordered before Wormtail could get out a greeting.

"But, Sever--"

"Now." The look in Severus' eyes made it clear there was to be no argument. I smirked at Wormtail as he walked by.

Wormtail brushed past us and went up to his room.

Gabriel was still looking at the TV. A few seconds later, he turned around to greet us. When his blue eyes fell on me, he jumped a little. "Ew . . ."

I glanced down at what I was wearing, and grimaced. I was wearing a light shade of green, and the blood from the victims was staining the fabric. Plus, I'm sure I had some on my face.

"I'm going to bed," he said, averting his eyes. He turned on his heel and walked in the direction of his room, head bowed slightly.

"Oh, bloody hell," I grumbled. "I look absolutely terrifying." I thought about what we'd just done, and I felt a surge of fury. I clenched my teeth. "What I did was absolutely terrifying. That was really . . . wrong, wasn't it?"

I looked at Severus, and saw that there was some blood on his hands, and some splattered up his neck on the side of his face. His robes were probably just as stained as mine, but he'd been smart enough to wear black. For some reason, what to wear never really crossed my mind.

He was refusing to look at me. He was tugging on his left sleeve, and his eyes roamed the living room. He pointed his wand at the bookshelf Wormtail's room was hidden behind. _"Muffliato."_ He stuffed his wand back in his robes. "You seemed to be enjoying yourself," he pointed out.

I opened my mouth to yell at him, tell him that it wasn't true, when I felt that darkness rear up in me like a monster. I must have looked rather frightening, face screwed up in anger, blood on me, most especially after what I'd just done, because he actually flinched, as if getting ready to grab his wand.

When I saw that he'd been ready to grab his wand, I deflated. The truth hit me.

"I _was_ enjoying myself." I pursed my lips, as if daring him to tell me that he was disgusted. He finally looked at me. "What? There's nothing else I can do. I have to take my anger out somehow. How do you deal with it?"

He looked away from me. "I've done it so many times I'm not sure. The same way you do, I suppose. It's just rather frightening to see you . . . act that way."

I shifted uncomfortably. "Is it wrong of us?"

"We have to find some way of doing it." I nodded, feeling slightly guilty. But also dark, a bit angry, unfulfilled . . . unsatisfied . . . "You looked . . ." I waited for him to finish his sentence, but he just trailed off. He turned away from me and began fiddling with things on the table.

Even though I was pretty sure I didn't want to actually hear what he'd wanted to say, I had to know. "Horrifying? Evil?" I urged.

"No . . ." He glanced back at me briefly, then looked away again. "Well, yes, but . . ."

"But?" I urged again, feeling anxious. What if the way I'd acted frightened him, and he couldn't be with me anymore?

"Beautiful," he mumbled.

My hand been reaching towards his back, as if to comfort him, but then my hand stopped. Well, that had certainly been an odd thing for him to think of me. I thought back to how he'd looked during the revel, and how the fire had danced on his face, and glinted off of his hair, and how his body moved fluidly, and I realized that it was (albeit morbidly) attractive.

"Do you think . . . it's bad of us to think that?" I asked awkwardly. "'Cause I thought you were too. Well, not beautiful 'cause that's kinda girly and, well . . . you're anything but girly."

He turned around and looked me over. "Is it wrong of us to find beauty in madness? In darkness? I've no idea. But I can't see how else we would deal with . . . what we must."

I shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, I guess."

He reached forward and held the side of my face, his black eyes roaming over my features, I tilted my head into his palm. "I thought you'd be . . . unnerved at what I thought . . ."

"I thought it too."

He smiled briefly, a wicked smile, a gleam in his eyes. "Bellatrix seemed to agree . . ."

I chuckled darkly. "Well, I think I taught her not to."

He barely brushed his lips against mine. "By biting her? Au contraire, Danielle . . ." He kissed me again. "You only encouraged her."

"That doesn't really make sense."

"Anything about her rarely does."

I smiled at him. "Were you jealous?" I asked, flicking my tongue against his bottom lip, keeping my eyes open and locked on his.

"Perhaps a little," he admitted in a low voice, his hand snaking into my hair and grabbing a fistful, one side of his mouth lifting. He tugged gently, tilting my head to one side, and I bit my lip.

The energy from what had happened a few moments earlier was still thrumming through me, and in the aftermath, it was affecting me in ways that I wouldn't have thought it would. Here we were, after torturing and killing, with blood on us, and the whole thing felt . . . erotic.

"I'm half turned on right now," I admitted quietly.

"Only half?"

Oh, my God. Him saying that did wonders. Especially since he was leaning down and beginning to kiss my neck. My hands snaked down his chest to the front of his robes. He bit down into the nape of my neck and I arched into him. "I think there _is_ something wrong with us . . ." I mumbled, still arching against him.

"Does it bother you?"

I chuckled. "Not as much as is should, I wager."

I squeezed him gently and he bucked, then I bit the side of his neck and sucked a little. He moaned. "This'll be the death of me, woman." He hand slid up my thigh, and I suckled his neck harder.

Suddenly, I didn't care so much if there was something wrong with us or not.

* * *

We both lied on our back, gasping. Pleasuring each other at the same time was . . . Well, somewhat complicated at first. We started standing up, then we sort of found ourselves on the floor, Severus hastily using _muffliato_ whilst pointing his wand down the hall (probably at Gabriel's room, and he'd already used it on the bookshelf hiding Wormtail's room, so . . .) and our hands in each other's underwear.

Now we were both on the floor, and I was knackered. His stuff was all over my hand and light green robes, which only made it messier than before. The sweat and scent of our pleasure and dried blood should have been nauseating, but surprisingly, I didn't care.

"I call shower first," I aired, slowly sitting up, smiling lazily.

"Damn you," he growled.

I just chuckled. I got up to leave, but he grabbed my forearm to prevent that. I looked down at him. I used my clean hand to brush away his greasy, messy hair from his eyes. "What?" I asked.

"After a revel, I'm not always the kindest person . . ."

I furrowed my brows at him. "You seemed pretty kind to me."

"You know the feeling you have in you during the revel? That dark, sadistic . . . fire?" I nodded. I understood that feeling quite well. I was feeling it for the first time. Of course I knew it. "It makes you needs the violence; it gets you through the revel. Trust me, Danielle. It doesn't last."

I furrowed my eyebrows and frowned. "Oh . . ."

"Eventually, the reality will sink in. It always does. I'm warning you beforehand. I am _not_ at my best when it does."

I nodded slowly. "Okay."

He nodded, sighing in relief, as if he'd been worried about something. He patted my arm a few times, then looked away from me. "Go take your shower. Try not to take all the hot water."

I stood up and went to the shower.

Normally, I'd take a bath, but I needed to wash off quickly so he could clean up too. I shut the door behind me, mulling over what he said. Would it really go away? I don't know if I could handle dealing with all that I'd done. Maybe I could just sleep it off. It was well after midnight, so it wouldn't be too hard to just lie down and go to sleep. And I'd dealt with Severus in a bad mood before. We'd probably get into an argument. I wondered how many times he'd gone to school and taught after a revel.

I quickly undressed and put my robes in the hamper. I got in the shower, crouching low, running my hand under the water, cleaning my hand of our activities. As soon as I got it to the temperature I wanted, I closed the curtain and turned on the shower.

It was about thirty seconds after that when I felt something inside me snap. I thought back to all the people I'd tortured and killed.

And I hit my knees and started sobbing.

* * *

A/N--sorry for the long update, but I have college, and a lot of other personal problems in my life right now. It took me sixteen days to update--I will try and make sure it never takes that long again, but I had problems in real life. Sorry.

The last chapter I updated, I was having problems with ff (dot) net, and it wouldn't let me edit the chapter. The name of last chapter was Favours.

Sorry for any inconveinance my slow update has caused.


	54. Chapter 57

Chapter 57: Best Friends

I don't know how long I cried in the shower, but I hope to God the sounds of the water hitting the porcelain drowned it out. I didn't want anybody hearing me sob. Especially since Wormtail was living with us now. But Severus had used _muffliato_, hadn't he?

After awhile though, I realized I would actually have to wash myself, and I stood up shakily and washed through my hair and body, trying to calm my nerves and shove those bad thoughts out of my head. I was no better than Bellatrix, was I? I got _off_ on it.

Even though I have no idea how else I could have dealt with what happened, I still felt dirty for enjoying myself. And I hated myself for liking it. And the screwed up thing? Looking back on it, it still made my heart thump with excitement.

I left the bathroom in a towel, and as soon as I stepped into the cold hallway, Severus brushed past me to walk in. He glanced down at me standing there in the towel, soaking, and I saw the corner of his mouth lift briefly.

I padded down the hallway and to our room. I shimmied into my crimson nightgown and crawled into the bed. I lied in bed for quite awhile, listening to the shower, trying to sleep. Even though it was well after midnight, I was still not tired. At all. It was like I was full of energy. Dammit.

I left the room and went to the living room to find Gabriel. "Oh, hey."

"You have a letter. It just came, but it flew in my room 'cause the window was open so . . ." He was holding the envelope. "It's from drah caw mal faw yuh."

"Huh?" I muttered, not recognizing the name or whatever it was he said.

He walked over to me and handed me the letter. He looked downward in shame. "I'm sorry. I, uh . . . I have a hard time reading sometimes." He opened his mouth to say something else, then he looked ashamed, and walked away down the hall.

Snape walked out in only a towel, and he glared at me. "I told you not to take all the hot water," he snapped angrily.

"Excuse me," I snapped right back.

"What's that?" he asked, walking over to me, little wisps of steam curling off of his skin.

"A letter."

My name was on the front in handwriting I knew quite well, not to mention the return address in the corner. "Oh, it's from Draco," I said, suddenly realizing what Gabriel had been trying to say. I flipped the letter around and recognized the wax seal immediately. I began to open the envelope.

"Rather formal for a friendly letter," he remarked.

I glanced at him. "You ever received a letter from the Malfoys? It could be a bleedin' Howler, and they'd put it in an expensive envelope. Image is everything to them, Severus. Arrogant prats, wanna show off how rich they are . . . Makes the news easier to handle, too."

I pulled out the parchment and leaned against teh counter Prince's cage was on. I quickly read through it. It wasn't a very long letter at all. "Draco wants me to come over and spend the night."

"Does he?"

I looked up at him to see that Severus was shifting his weight onto his other foot. He wasn't looking at me. I put the letter beside Prince's cage. "What? You're all . . . Weird."

"Draco wants you to spend the night at his house."

"Yeah, so?"

His lips pursed. "He wants you to go now?"

"What? No it's after midnight. This is for tomorrow. Wait, are you . . . are you jealous?" He folded his arms over his chest. "Did you and Lily ever have sleepovers? I'm sure she dated someone at some time. Are you telling me you never had sleepovers when she was involved with someone?"

He glanced at me, then he looked me over. "Yes, we had sleepovers, and yes, we occasionally slept in the same bed. I was also in love with her, so you can understand my concerns."

"Severus, you have nothing to worry about."

"Don't I? Danielle, have you forgotten that you _cheated_ on me with him?"

I stopped leaning against the counter that Prince's cage was on, the anger thrumming thicker through my veins. "We were drunk! And don't bring this up again! That was ages ago! God!"

"That doesn't change the fact that it happened."

"As if I'd do something with him _sober._ Besides, his family is there, _Bellatrix_ is there, even if I were to do something with him, I wouldn't with that bitch lurking around."

"Because me being in the next room is so much different."

I stormed over to him and tossed my red hair over my shoulder. "Now that isn't fair! I was _drunk_ Severus! And I swear to you I would never, _ever_ do it again! If you don't want me going over there, just tell me, and I won't go! I'll tell him that my jealous boyfriend is so damn possessive of me, I can't have any friends, that's what I'll tell him!"

"Danielle, you _cheated_ on me with him. Yet here you are, acting like you've done nothing wrong."

"Do I drag in shit you've done in the past? No. Why? Because it's the past! God!"

"There is a difference between a few months ago versus several years and you know it."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. He towered over me, and I glared right back into his eyes, no longer caring that he was only in a towel which I would normally find attractive. "You know, it's a wonder I can even go to school without you having an aneurism. God forbid I actually look in his general direction, let alone be in the same damn house as he is."

"I cannot believe you don't understand my feelings on this. You've known him far longer than you've known me, you let him _touch_ you before you let me, and yet you cannot understand why I don't want you sleeping in the same house with him overnight!"

"Well boo-hoo! Go cry about it! You can watch me kill a crap load of people and torture them then come home and get off on it with me but you can stand me having a male friend? Severus, do you honestly think I'm gonna just look at Draco and forget all about you? Really! It's nice to know you have such faith in me!"

"Fine! Go sleep over at Draco's. Do as you please--you will anyway."

"Oh, great, now it's a guilt trip! Well newsflash Severus! My mum couldn't guilt trip me so good luck, but I doubt you'll be able to! I know Draco's an arrogant berk but you're my boyfriend! God one drunken mistake and you flip out! It's not like I'm drunk now, is it? And trust me, I won't be drinking any time soon 'round him! If you would just get over yourself longer than ten seconds then maybe you'd get that I want nothing to do with him! God you're so damn possessive! Do you really think so low of yourself that you think I'd leave you for Draco or do shit with him sober?"

"That isn't what this is about Lily!" he shouted, black eyes wild. I stared at him, stunned. That didn't just happen. "This is about the fact you two have a history, and that despite what you tell yourself, there _is_ something between you, I saw it in his eyes that night, and--"

"Danielle," I corrected, my hands clenching into fists tightly. I could feel my nails digging into my skin. The moment of shock disappeared and was replaced with anger. Forget the darkness at the revel. That was nothing compared to this. The last time he called me that name, I was sorting through ingredients, and we'd be talking civilly. There were times I knew he was looking at her instead of me. But never while he was angry.

He furrowed his eyebrows, as if he didn't understand why I'd said my name.

"I'M DANIELLE!" I screamed, my fists shaking and my eyes burning. "I'M NOT LILY!" I had never yelled like that before, except for when I punched my mirror. My throat hurt, but I didn't care. It was nothing compared to the stabbing sensation I felt in my chest. How loud I screamed seemed to shock him, because he flinched slightly.

He looked like I had slapped him across the face. Good. I don't think I've ever been so angry in my entire life. Of course I wouldn't like him calling me her name ever, but the fact he did it while yelling, while being angry . . . It was always a "good" thing being compared to her. This wasn't a good comparison, if he was yelling. Was I just angry because all the emotion from the revel was coming up? Was it because this was the first time since we'd gone out he'd called me her? Or was it because I had a perfect image of Lily in my head, and obviously she was flawed if I reminded him of her when he was angry?

"I won't abandon you like she did, okay? Just because I happen to share a bit of bloody DNA with her doesn't mean I _am_ her okay? I won't leave you for--for--a stupid little git! I won't leave you like she did! I think I get what this is about! This is about her leaving you and--and you think I'll do it too because I look like her! Or something else stupid like that! God it's a wonder I even want to stay with you! Let's see how well you'd like it if I just started saying someone's else's name when I talked to you! You're such a git!"

He was staring at me, his eyes narrowed, but apparently he didn't have anything to say.

I pointed at him. "I'm going, whether you like it or not. And no, I won't do anything with him. Because unlike you, Severus, I actually _love_ the person I'm dating."

And before he could do anything, I Disapparated.

And a searing, tearing sensation ripped through my side.

I fell flat on my back, pain slamming through my side. I was angry _and_ in pain for some damn reason. I let out a loud scream when I moved to sit up, the pain tearing through me again, and I fell over again, face down in the damp grass. The sweet smell made my nauseous for some reason, and the cool feeling of it on my skin only made the warm, sticky something on my side more noticeable.

I forced myself to sit, gasping and whimpering, tears bursting from my lids because of the pain, and I held my side. My silk nightgown was wet and warm and a little sticky.

Perhaps it was a habit I picked up from Severus, or because I was a spy and needed my wand handy at all times, but I carried my wand with me everywhere, even while I slept. It was just a mark of how different my life was now compared to before, because even a bloody year ago, I would have been seriously hating my life.

I grabbed my wand, my hand slick, and pointed it at my side. "Lumos." The light nearly blinded me. My nightgown was crimson . . . But there was a darkened area seeping around my side, growing larger. I didn't need a rocket scientist to tell me it was blood.

"Oh bloody hell," I growled.

I'd gone and splinched myself.

What were the three D's again? Determination, deliberation, and destination? Right? Well apparently I could do one of those D's while I was angry. Sod that stupid class. Sod Apparation. Sod Severus, this was all his damn fault, me splinching myself, if he hadn't been a royal arse I wouldn't have been too upset to actually go and Apparate properly! Damn good thing I didn't splinch my head from my neck! How bad was the cut anyway? God I hope my guts weren't spilling out, that would be a right sight for whoever stumbled upon my body in the morning . . .

I lifted my nightgown over my knees and over my stomach. Blood stained my skin, and was slick over my skin and down my side. I hope nobody could see me, holding my nightgown above me, blood pouring from my side, gasping and whimpering and crying in pain, with my pink cotton panties showing. Perhaps it was the shock, but the first thing that went through my mind was how badly I didn't want to die wearing pink panties. I _hated_ pink.

Also, there was the virgin thing.

And the fact I just yelled at my boyfriend.

Grunting through the pain, and wondering when my natural pain killers shooting from my brain from shock were going to kick in because this certainly wasn't feeling great, I pointed my wand at the wound and started healing it, hand shaking, the pain intense up until the very last piece of my skin stitched together.

All right, so I hadn't splinched myself that bad. It could have been a lot worse. The gash probably would have needed stitches though (were I a muggle) and it was quite long. And it was extremely painful. But it really wasn't the worst pain I'd ever been in, and it didn't take long to heal.

Quite glad no one was around to see me cry, actually.

Or the fact I was still crying.

I shakily stood up and wiped my tears from my face although it was pointless since I was still crying. I was so angry that I could literally feel my blood run hot through my veins and I was clenching my wand so hard that I could feel it bend slightly under the pressure. My fists were shaking.

He called me Lily. He was angry at me, and he called me Lily. Did he think I was going to leave him? Forget him, like she did? How could he? We were living together, for God's sake, and he couldn't even get my name right? Couldn't even think of me? Couldn't even trust me with Draco?

Or was I more upset at the fact that I just realized, just now, that she _left_ him? The amazing, wonderful, _perfect_ Lily Evans abandoned her best friend when he needed her the most. My bloody hero wasn't . . .wasn't this flawless being . . . She was human, just like me . . . and being compared to her was nothing more than being compared to . . . anybody else . . . She was just some girl, some normal, average girl, just like me, and being compared to her meant absolutely nothing . . . And she was _still_ better than I am . . .

Lily would have never gotten drunk and cheated. But she would abandon her best friend. And I'm less than her.

For the first time since I'd apparated, I looked at my surroundings. I was at the park. I'd only managed walking distance from the place I was trying to get away from.

I was so stupid. I hadn't even thought of where I wanted to go before I Disapparated. Well, that explains the D I forgot to do, didn't it?

I used my wand to clean off my robes, then lifted up my nightgown and cleaned my skin. It was actually a bit cold for summer, and the grass was literally numbing my feet. I rubbed my arms and looked around a bit more, still sniffling and crying.

I heard a noise behind me, a popping noise, and I spun around, raising my wand. My wand light fell upon Severus, who had his wand raised as well.

"Huh?" I muttered.

"What?" He looked me over, then lowered his wand. "What are doing here?" he demanded.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

"Did you apparate here?" he asked, completely avoiding my question.

The anger inside me reared up again, and I stowed my wand away. "Well . . . Sorta, I splinched myself in the process, but don't worry, I healed myself." Even though what I said was completely conversational, my tone was biting and acidic. And somewhat wobbly because I still had tears in my eyes.

"Let's hope that some of the wards from the revel are still working," he said. His eyes trailed over my tear-stained face. I'm sure I looked like a wet rat, but I didn't care. "How bad was it?"

"Just a gash on my side. Long, maybe would've needed stitches . . . healed it just fine, thank you. Cleaned up the blood." I folded my arms over my chest and switched my weight onto my other bare foot, the coolness of the grass feeling a bit good now that I was used to it.

"Where were you trying to go?"

"I didn't have anywhere in mind. Just away."

"You must never Disapparate with an unclear mind! You must know exactly where to go, Danielle! You're very lucky that's all that happened."

"I'm not in the mood for a lecture. Probably wasn't as bad as it could have been because I had the other two D's down. I deliberately left, and I was determined to get away from you. So think about it this way--you saved my life. Good for you." I glared at him and he glared right back. "As for why I ended up here, I don't know. Probably because my body couldn't get very far when I was writhing in agony. So why'd you come here? Got some sort of tracking device on me so you can know where I'm at all the time? Wouldn't put it past you. Next thing you know you'll actually have me on a leash."

"For your information, Danielle, I come here when I'm upset."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Upset?"

He nodded slowly and he seemed to be in thought. For a long while he didn't say anything, and I just continued glaring at him. "We do a great deal of hurting each other, don't we?"

Fear hit me, and it hit me so hard I actually felt nauseous. Was he breaking up with me? "Severus, please . . . I know I'm a bitch sometimes, and yeah, you're an arse too, but that doesn't mean . . . I mean, I'm happy with you--well, I'm not really pleased now, you know, because of the arse thing--but that doesn't mean I want this to end! Everyone fights, Severus, no one's perfect, just because I got a bit snippy and you're a bit possessive doesn't mean I want to break up! Please, give me another chance, I promise, I won't spend the night at Draco's tomorrow, if you don't want me to, I swear!" I pleaded, walking over to him, more tears burning my eyes. I grabbed onto his arm. "Can't we just talk this through?"

I was gripping his arm and staring into his eyes, crying, my mouth trembling . . . I looked like an idiot, a whiny prat, and I expected him to change his mind? Oh God . . .

He laughed. 

I stared at him, confused.

He shook his head while he laughed, black eyes glittering, then he pulled me into a hug. I was still confused. "I'm not breaking up with you," he muttered, then kissed the top of my head. He pulled away and held me at arms' length, smiling and shaking his head a little. "It was a mere observation."

Well now I felt even dumber. I cleared my throat and stepped away from him, brushing off my robes and wiping my eyes.

"I'm still angry, though," I mumbled, shooting a quick glare at him. He just raised his eyebrows at me, still smiling. Smiling a very charming smile. Well, I suppose it wouldn't be charming to anyone else, but it was to me--it was a small smile where both side of his mouth lifted up in a haughty way, and he put his arms behind his back and tilted his chin up. "Don't smile at me like that. It's not going to help matters."

He just raised his eyebrows again.

"You come here when you're upset, you said. Why?"

That certainly wiped the smile off of his face. "It's getting late, and seeing as you're here, I have no reason to be upset. Let's go home."

"Why?" I demanded harshly.

"It wouldn't be . . . prudent to discuss it just now." He blinked a few times. "I'll tell you some other time. Now, let's be on our way."

I looked him over. Why wouldn't it be prudent to discuss why he liked to come to the park when upset now? Would it upset me? And what could possibly upset me at this time that wouldn't later?

He must think I'm stupid.

"Does it have something to do with Lily?" I asked, my voice thick with annoyance.

He stood there for a long while, which was practically the same as saying that I was right. I crossed my arms tighter and pursed my lips more, and my vision started to blur with small tears.

"I met her here," he revealed slowly.

It explained so much--why he would get annoyed whenever Gabriel wanted to come here and yet he walked by whenever he was feeling grouchy.

Even though this only angered me further which made him right, I nodded. "Yeah. Okay." He waited for me to either ask for details or ramble on about how he was a prat or at least get snippy and sarcastic about Lily. But I couldn't. I just didn't want to talk about her. "Maybe we should get home," I suggested, walking towards him.

So now I knew why he came here.

I sorta wished I hadn't asked.

* * *

A/N--I had a great Spring Break, and I hope you all do too, whenever you have yours.

Bob the Builder wrote this chapter. He tied me up in the closet. In fact, he is writing this now.

I am now the author. I crawled out of the TV like the girl in The Ring. Fear me.


	55. Chapter 58

Chapter 58: Difference

_Dear Draco,_

_I would love nothing more than to spend the night at your house with you. But the truth is, we are not children anymore. And as much as I hate mentioning this, but we are not brother and sister. I feel like a complete bitch right now, Draco, I really do, but I have to be honest._

_Growing up, I always wanted your parents as mine. I use to want it so badly. I still do. Narcissa would be a great mother--she's really caring and she puts those she loves above everything else. Lucius is a bit stern, yeah, but he only has your--and my--best interest at heart. I never had any of that, so I'll admit to always viewing your parents as mine, and I guess my mind sort of wanted to . . . Er, juxtapose that. It only made sense that you would be my brother._

_But you're not my brother, any more than we are children._

_The fact is, I'm not quite sure what you are to me. Not anymore. It's not because I have any confusion about how I feel towards you, but because I don't know how you really feel towards me. No matter how much we like to pretend That Night didn't happen, it did. Ignoring it won't make it go away. And there were instances, before that. Things that made me wonder . . . Now I know you say you love Pansy, but do you also love me?_

_I cannot sleep in the same house as you overnight, let alone the same __bed__ until I know just what you feel for me. Sleeping in a bed, waking up with you draping over me, is cute . . . When we're eight. Not so much when we're teens, and when I don't know how you truly feel about me. God I feel so horrible right now._

_I love you, Draco. I've never told you this, and I should. I love you. But as a brother. There was a time, maybe, when I could have seen myself __growing__ to be in love with you. But I never did, and I guess I just sort of always assumed you thought of me as a sister since I thought of you as a brother. But the truth is, I never knew--I just told myself that. A part of me has always wondered, worried even, that you thought of me as something else. But I can't take wondering anymore._

_Fact is, you've always sort of made me feel like the "other woman" even though I'm not. You often hide me from Pansy. Now I'm not saying Pansy has any right to be so possessive of you or treat you like a trophy, but if you loved her so much, you wouldn't have to hide me from her. She might not like you spending time with me, but you shouldn't lie. I don't want to be your dirty secret, but I think we've sort of put ourselves in that situation. We've done stuff, Draco. I've given you a hand job, I've made you cum, and you have touched me, pleasured me, made __me__ cum. And until we sit down and think about that, really discuss what's between us, I can't spend the night with you._

_Today, when I come to your house, I want to sit down and talk with you. There is a lot we need to discuss. Not just __our__ relationship with each other, but our relationship with __others._

_Maybe one day I can share a bed with you again. But we've changed, and we'll never be like how we used to. So I don't know. Please don't get angry. I really need this, and so do you, even if you don't want it. This is just as hard for me as it is for you._

_I love you, Draco. You mean the world to me. So please don't let us fall apart. And if we don't get all this out in the open, I fear that we __will__ and I don't want that._

_Love,_

_Danielle_

I reread over the letter several times, seeing how shakily my words were written. It made sense, though, seeing as my hand had been so unsteady. There were a few teardrops on the parchment, but it didn't smear the ink any.

A part of me worried that writing this would cause us to break away form each other, but I knew that I needed to do. The problem with being a Slytherin is that I often would ignore my needs over my wants . I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to talk about this with him. In fact, I wanted to ignore the problem. I had done such a spectacular job at ignoring the problem that I had convinced myself there wasn't a problem at all.

But there was. And my little argument with Severus only made it more apparent. I would never admit it to anyone, not even him, but I had been in the wrong. Severus was right--there was something between Draco and me. Even I had found myself worrying about it sometimes. If Draco touched me, I would be so aware of the contact I couldn't think about anything else, and it wasn't in a good way, like when Severus put his hand on my knee, or brushed my shoulder with his when we walked by each other. In a bad way, like finding a strand of hair in my soup, and not being able to eat the rest of it even though I took out the one strand.

After we'd got home from the park, Severus had gone straight to bed. I hadn't--I told him I wasn't tired, but I think he thought I was still angry with him. Which I was--Draco or not, he had no right to call me Lily. But I guess I was being immature, since I knew damn well he loved her more than me--I got into this relationship knowing that, so me being so angry about something I already knew was a bit pointless.

I'd tried watching the telly, but nothing was on seeing as it was about three in the morning. I'd put it on some paid advertisement programs while I munched on some chips I'd reheated in the microwave. I probably should have been thinking about the homework given to me over summer break--I hadn't written a word on my Potions essay yet, something Severus was only too keen to remind me of as often as possible--or thinking about how he called me Lily, or wondering how the hell we were going to get Gabriel motivated or his classes or how I was going to help him learn to read and get his marks in school better, but I hadn't been able to think about anything except Draco. How he looked at me, how he talked to me, how he wanted me to spend the night with him, how he always curled up to me . . . And how it always made me uncomfortable, how the thought of him having feelings for me made me a little sick . . . It would be like kissing a brother, even though I'd never had a real brother to compare that feeling too . . . But that's what he was to me, obviously. I mean, I was upset at the fact Lucius was in Azkaban even though I shouldn't have been, seeing as I was fighting on the opposite side . . . But he was like my dad . . .

So, after brooding over the situation for far longer than I should have, I wrote the letter.

Now, I just had to send it.

I stared at it for a long while, then I held my head in my hands. I was a damn spy for God's sake, I was pretending to be a Death Eater, I had just killed a bunch of muggle not a few hours ago, I was in love wit ha man who, though he was dating me, didn't love me nearly as much as he loved a dead woman, and the one thing I couldn't get my mind off of was the fact I was being a selfish, spoiled brat. How could I? How could I get mad at Severus when I was in the wrong? What was wrong with me? As if his life wasn't bad enough, why did I have to go and bollix things up worse? He did so much for me, and how did I repay him?

It was a sobering mirror to look into.

And to top it all off, I'd been lying to him. Well, not lying, just _hiding_ something. I guess I felt ashamed about it, but . . .well, on the grand scale of things, there were far worse things for me to feel guilty about. Like the whole thing with Draco, for instance.

I closed my eyes, willing the tears to stay behind my lids, but a few fell down my cheeks. Even though it wasn't nearly as bad as the time we stopped being friends, I still worried. Draco was my only friend. I could lie to myself and say that Jasmine and I were close, but we weren't. We barely talked. He was like a brother to me, and to lose him . . . But I couldn't pretend that there was nothing between us anymore.

I felt hands on my shoulders and I jumped slightly, shocked at their sudden pressure. I looked up and saw Severus, who looked horrible. He had bags under his eyes, and stubble growing on his chin--and Severus wasn't the type of guy who looked good with stubble. He looked like a homeless man, not that I really cared about that. His black eyes were narrowed and bloodshot.

"It's nearly five," he muttered, squeezing my shoulder a bit.

I cleared my throat and looked away. "I'm not tired."

"You're such a liar," he said, pressing his thumbs against my skin, which felt amazing. I hadn't realized how stiff my shoulders were until he started to massage them gently. "If you plan on spending the night at Draco's, you'd best get some rest."

I tilted my head back to look at him. He was avoiding looking at me, but I could tell he was disappointed. "You'd . . . you'd let me go?"

"With displeasure . . . but I trust you."

I smiled at him. "I'm not going." I picked up the letter and handed it to him over my shoulder.

It was awkwardly silent while he read it, and I kept waiting for him to critique it, point out some horrible flaw in my writing, or tell me I was being selfish or something. After for what seemed like hours, he held the letter over my shoulder. I took it from him, and placed it on the table before me.

"You didn't have to do this for me, Danielle," he said from behind me.

"I know. Well . . . I didn't really do it for you. It's just . . . You were right."

He grabbed my wrist gently and I looked up at him. He pulled me from the chair, and I stood before him. He looked over my face. He opened his mouth to say something, but then he closed it. He took the letter from the table and held it up. "Are you sure you want to send this off?" he asked, but I had a feeling that he was originally going to say something else.

I nodded.

He walked off, and I went into our room. I lied in our bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. The blankets were warm, probably because he'd been wrapped up in them.

A few moments later, Severus walked into our room, and crawled into bed with me. I was on my back, but he was lying on his side, and I somehow knew without seeing that he was looking at me. I felt that nagging sensation in my head that made me want to say something, but I didn't' really want to say it. It was almost ripped out of me against my will. "My patronus isn't a snake any more."

"What?"

"I feel like such an idiot," I grumbled, closing my eyes tightly. "I noticed it, the other day. Well, not the other day, but awhile ago. I mean, you know how Death Eaters can't . . . can't produce patronuses? Well ,I, er, I guess I was worried that I wouldn't be able to do it anymore. So I did it . . . And it's not a snake."

"You're not a Death Eater. You are a spy. You were never a Death Eater, like I was, and so that term shouldn't really apply to you." Even though my eyes were still shut, I could feel his eyes on me. "What is it now?"

"Don't get mad, okay?" I mumbled, clenching my hands into fists. He was going to think I was stupid.

"Is it a dragon?" he inquired, voice low. I could hear that he was really worried about that.

Opening my eyes, I turned on my side, looking into his face, and he looked a bit fearful. "No, it isn't."

"A dog, Like Sirius?" he asked, his voice lower and eyes a bit darker.

I couldn't help but scoff at that. "No," I chuckled, although I still felt nervous.

"Well, unless it's a stag I can hardly see how I'd be angry."

My face fell and it felt like someone clenched my heart.

His eyes widened, and I saw him bring in his bottom lip, something he did when he was trying to stop himself from yelling or hide any other intense emotion. "He's your cousin, Danielle, and James' son, how on earth do you expect me _not_ to be angry?"

"It's a doe, Severus. Like yours. Not a stag," I blurted. I hadn't realized I was giving him whatever expression I'd given him. But at what he'd said, a doe was close enough to a stag, and I thought it would anger him. It probably did. He probably thought I was an idiot. He furrowed his eyebrows at me. "I love you. I know you know this, but . . . It's just, yours is just like hers, and you talk so much about her, that I love her too. Not like that, obviously, I'm not a lesbian, but . . . I look up to her. And I love you. And you were both does. I know it seems stupid and childish, and you're' always telling me I deserve better, but I really don't, and I just--she's so perfect, you know? And you got mad at her at some point, I mean, you yelled at me and said her name, so that means she--she wasn't' perfect, and I just didn't want you thinking I was some stupid naïve little girl because my patronus changed. Look I know life isn't perfect or fair, but I didn't mean for it to happen! I just love you so much and I love her too and it just--it just happened!"

"Danielle?" he said, with an eyebrow raised.

"Hmm?" I hummed nervously, clutching onto the blanket.

And his mouth was on mine. It caught me off guard, so for a moment his lips felt awkward on mine, like they didn't fit together properly, but after that initial awkward second, I closed my eyes and pressed against him. The stubble on his chin and across his top lip felt unpleasant scratching against my skin, but I seriously didn't care.

Severus was hard to predict. I had expected him to call me foolish, that I wasted a good patronus on him seeing as I deserved better, or something. Instead he kissed me. It was a hard kiss at first, but then it softened as he wrapped his arms around me.

He pulled away from me, and pressed his forehead against mine. "I'm far from angry," he mumbled, then leaned forward and kissed me again. "I would never ask you to care for her like you obviously do. I would expect, and understand, resentment. Yet . . . You don't. How could you _ever_ think I would hate you for that?"

A part of me realized how wrong this should have felt. We were talking about how I admired his past love. He was kissing me because I didn't hate her. But the both of us talked about her a lot, and I suppose at some point, we'd both come to some nonverbal agreement that it was okay to talk about it. I guess some people might think that this weird . . . Thing we have with Lily would be a weakness, but . . . I viewed it as a strength. It was like . . . She brought us together.

"It's just . . . Well, I guess I idolize her. And today, what you said . . . Well, I was more upset than I should have been. It's not like you haven't looked at me and saw her before. But this was the first time you were angry . . . And I just, I don't know . . . Felt stupid because I thought she was perfect or something ,and I thought if you knew that mine was a doe like yours, because I love you and I admire her, that you'd . . . you'd get awkward or something."

"She was far from perfect, but that doesn't mean you have to admire her any less--and I would never tell you to do so," he said, leaning closer. His breath wasn't that pleasant, either, but oddly enough, I didn't care. "Respecting her is more than I could ever ask of you."

I nodded.

"Loving me is more than I could ever ask of you, as well. Yet you do." He brushed my hair away from my face. "I love you, Danielle."

I grinned at him. "I love you, too." He smiled thinly for a brief moment at what I'd said to him. I gather he didn't hear those words often, seeing as every time I said them, he would smile but try to hide it. Whenever he said, I felt myself blush and my heart leap.

So perhaps we weren't normal, and neither was this relationship. But I really couldn't care less.

I reached forward and brushed away his oily hair form his eyes, then ran my fingers down, across his cheekbone, and along his jaw line. He tilted his head and caught my thumb in between his teeth while he continued staring into my eyes.

"You're amazing," he said after a few moments of us just looking at each other. I couldn't help but grin. He leaned forward and kissed me. "Sending that letter to Draco . . . having my patronus . . . I just can't think of being with anyone but you . . ." He kissed me a third time, and I smiled against his mouth.

Really, for having killed and tortured several muggles a few hours ago, I wasn't having as bad an aftermath as I would have expected.

I placed my head on his chest and closed my eyes, feeling content when he wrapped his arms around me.

When he kissed the top of my head and I felt his chest rise with breath while he played with my hair, I realized something. I doubted I would ever tell Severus what I'd just understood, but it brought a smile to my face--however arrogant and smug that made me.

Lily may have been better than me, but she'd never know what it was like to be wrapped up in his arms, or to have him kiss her, or please her. She'd never know what it was like to feel his stubble scratch her cheek, or have relationship discussions, or ignore the fact he had smelly breath when he moved in to kiss her. I had something she'd never have.

Well, that was her loss. And my gain. For once, I wasn't angry at her for ditching him. As horrible as that makes me, I didn't care.

I was a selfish brat, after all.

* * *

A/N--I've decided to abandon this story.

Hahaha April Fool's Day! Really, I'm kidding. I'm not abandoning anything.

Anyway, the reason Danielle's patronus is now a doe is because it's in her character to rely on others, become more like them--she hasn't found herself yet, and so it also has to deal with the fact she can't have her own patronus because she can't be her own person yet . . . she's still trying to find out just who she is.

I just thought I should explain a bit more, seeing as she can't explain that bit herself seeing as it's part of her subconscious.


	56. Chapter 59

Chapter 59: Cover Blown

_Danielle,_

_DO NOT come with the intention of having that conversation with me. Pansy is here. Please come, though, I will explain more later. Dress formally, like I said in the other letter._

_Signed,_

_Draco_

I looked over the note, getting an odd feeling in my chest. Being woken up after like two hours of sleep and having a letter thrust into my face wasn't exactly how I'd planned on waking. It took like three tries to actually understand the letter. Now I just felt uneasy. Was he mad at me or something?

"Dammit, I think he's angry," I managed through my yawn.

"No, he isn't. You cannot have that conversation with Pansy present," Severus grumbled, and I looked at him. He had small bags under his eye and stubble on his chin. He looked like he's just woke up as well. I imagine that the tapping on the window had woken him up.

I almost groaned. Severus was always grouchy if someone woke him up before he was ready to wake up. This was going to be a fun day.

"Oh. Why would she be there? Is he having a party or something?"

He scoffed a little, then thrust another piece of parchment into my hand.

_Severus,_

_I am having a celebratory dinner at my manor. I want you to come. It would mean a lot to me. Please dress formally._

_Signed,_

_Draco_

Why on earth would Severus and I both be invited to the manor? That was strange. "I will be getting ready. Can you find someone to baby-sit Gabriel?" he said. "Not Wormtail. Unfortunately, he was invited as well--he's left already."

I looked at him, confused. Why the hell would Draco give a rat's arse about Wormtail?

Severus seemed to catch onto my confusion. "Not from Draco, of course. From the Dark Lord."

"Wait . . . The Dark Lord has invited Wormtail to _Draco's_ party? What the hell would he . . ." Severus raised an eyebrow briefly at me, and I sighed. "Oh. He's getting his Dark Mark. He wanted me to spend the night because he was getting his Dark Mark and I have one."

"Apparently. But we cannot miss it, otherwise . . . It will be suspicious. And we cannot take Gabriel for obvious reasons."

"Like, say, the Dark Lord recognizing him? Yeah, I know."

"The werewolf never has anything to do. Nothing important, anyway," he suggested.

"Okay, cool. Should we send him a letter or something?"

"Or you could send him your patronus," he muttered.

"Why not yours?"

"Oh, yes, Danielle, that is exactly what I want, Remus bloody Lupin knowing I have a doe patronus," he snapped, glaring at me. "I used it once to warn Sirius that his idiot godson went to the ministry looking for him, and trust me, that is not an experience I would like to go through again. So would you just do what I tell you to do?"

"Fine," I snapped right back. "But mine is a doe too."

"And you look just like her, so he'll think nothing of it. It'll makes him more cooperative, as well."

"Why?" I said, looking him over, getting out of bed.

"I wasn't the only one who had feelings for her."

For some reason ,that shocked me. I knew that most of the people around me would see her when they looked at me simply because most of them knew her. And I had come to terms with the fact Severus loved her more than me long ago. But for some reason, it was irritating thinking that maybe Lupin had looked at me the same way Severus did. I remembered, back in my fourth year, having a crush on Lupin, and noticing that he looked at me oddly as well, but I just always assumed that was just recognition. Well, after I realized I looked like Lily, anyway. Somehow, it was creepy knowing that Lupin may have looked at me . . . Romantically . . . Like Severus did . . .

"You look like you're about to vomit," he informed.

"It's just . . . Lupin must have . . . You know, looked at me all . . . Well, you know, like you do, at least once."

Severus looked me over, then looked away. "Perhaps. This bothers you why?"

"Well, he's not you."

"And it's all right for me to lust after a child, is that what you're saying?" he growled, giving me a dirty look.

"No! I wasn't saying that! Why, you didn't--you didn't lust after me, did you? When I was fourteen?"

"No, of course not! I'm not a paedophile! It's nice to know what my own girlfriend thinks about me!"

I jumped out of the bed and tossed down the letter I just realized I still had in my had. "What the hell? Of course I don't think you're a paedophile! You didn't even think of me at all until I was fifteen! God! I was just saying I don't want _him_ doing it! God! Moody much?"

"What is so different from me looking at you to him looking at you? If I'm not mistaken, you _did_ have a crush on him."

"Well unless _I'm_ mistaken, you didn't prance around with James and Sirius and let them make fun of people, either!" I snapped. "He was supposed to be the good one, the prefect, and he was too chicken to stand up to his own friends, who the hell is he supposed to do a damn thing for us, huh? You're far braver than he is, and yet, who gets all the credit? It's not fair, at all, that everybody gets to like Lupin, that everybody goes on and on about how sweet he is, yet he can't even stand up to his friends! Bloody hell, even _Longbottom_ gets points for standing up to his friends! So excuse me if I don't want pathetic little cowards pining after me! And you wanna know the messed up bit, Severus? Huh? Do you? I can bet you ten galleons that everyone else in the Order probably thinks him and I should be together because he's more deserving! Those stupid little backstabbing arses!"

At first, Severus looked about ready to retaliate to anything I said, and knowing him, he would have stumped me. I suppose I was never good with wit. Then again, how could I be good with comebacks? Of course I would always lose. I hung out with Draco, who always knew the right thing to say to get on anyone's nerves, and Severus. How could I even possibly hope to be better at with than them? But then I noticed his expression got more curious the longer I went off on my tirade.

He walked over to me, staring me in the eye, then he smirked a bit. "Whilst I do find the fact you compared Lupin unfavourably to me pleasing . . . That wasn't about us, was it?"

How did he do that? How did he always know more about what I was thinking than I did?

I sighed. "We always have to do the hard stuff. No, let me rephrase that, _you_ always have to do that hard stuff. I mean, you're far more valuable than I am. But, I mean, compared to the rest of them, we have to do the spying and the--the hanging around Death Eaters and . . . And all that sort of stuff, and yet, no one ever says how grateful they are. I mean, every meeting I've ever been too, it's like, Dumbledore thanks everybody but us, and everybody gives us dirty looks. Sorry, I was just . . . I was just thinking about that all night. About Lily, about how brave she was, and how no one _ever_ comments on how brave Lily and James were--" Severus scoffed, and I gave him a look. "You might not have liked him, but he fought off the Dark Lord. Him and Lily did it, and who gets all the bloody credit? Bloody Harry Potter. And I thought, well, that's not so different from us, is it?"

He shook his head, the brushed my hair away from my face. "We're Slytherins, Danielle. Do you honestly think anybody will ever look at us with praise?"

I growled. "And they call us prejudiced."

He just smiled thinly at me. "I remember, when Lupin read that note your mother wrote you, how he was saying he was right all along, that you were more like your mother than Lily. He was looking for excuses not to like you. Makes me wonder if he was thinking about you in ways he shouldn't have been. Either that, or he was angry that you weren't exactly like Lily. I remember you calling him spineless then, too, and even though you fancied him, you said you would never like to be with someone who couldn't . . . get angry. Someone who couldn't stand up for himself."

"I remember, too. He's such a coward," I said, letting Severus hold the side of my face. "You're not, though. You're very brave. Maybe you should've been in Gryffindor."

He scoffed a little. "You and Dumbledore are so disillusioned . . . I would never have lasted with those insolent dunderheads."

"Well, fine, then, but you're a Slyther-dor. Far braver than me."

"You're a spy, as well," he pointed out, brushing some more hair from my eyes.

"Yeah, because I wanted to show off, because I wanted to have control over the Dark Lord. Not because I wanted to do something right or to avenge anybody. Not for any noble reason."

"You saved Gabriel, and yet you claim you are not noble," he said, shaking his head. "Enough talk. We can't be late, and I still have to shave. Send Lupin your patronus."

* * *

I waited inside Grimmauld Place, holding Gabriel's hand, waiting for Lupin to show up. I felt guilty for all the stuff I'd said earlier about him and Sirius. Especially since I was asking Lupin to baby-sit, and I felt even worse about Sirius because he was dead. I'd always gotten along with the both of them. Well, Lupin had been quite stand-offish since he found out Severus and I were dating. I remembered when the two of them had walked out of the kitchen to find us snogging, and how Lupin had been asking those odd questions . . . He'd always seemed like a personal, private guy, but then again, he was also curious . . . But maybe there was some ulterior motive to asking me about what it was like dating someone with such a difference in age. What if . . . That if he was interested in me? Why else would he ask? I'd thought him asking that was a bit out of character, but what if . . .

There was a loud popping noise from behind us and we turned around to look. "Wotcher Dani, Gabe," greeted Tonks, walking over to us. She, apparently, wasn't paying attention to where she was going, and walked right into the table, smacking the side of her pelvis on the corner. She cleared her throat and steadied herself, seeing as he almost fell, then continued walking towards us. "Sorry, last night was the full moon, Remus is still feeling a little ill." she said, coming over and mussing up Gabriel's hair a bit, smiling at me.

"Er, that's a new look for you," I muttered, pointing at her hair.

She cleared her throat and brushed her mousy-brown bangs aside. Normally, she was very striking. Or, well, at least she was quite attention getting. Then again, she was Sirius' cousin, that whole family tended to be rather attractive. Well, except Draco, he was a bit pointy and pale, but even then, he managed to be cute. Now, though, she looked rather plain. Looked like a normal girl that no one would look twice at.

She flashed a smile at me. "Right, yeah . . . yeah . . ."

I looked her over. Maybe that's what she liked to look like , I don't know, but she didn't seem very happy. Usually she was a bundle of energy. But then again, I didn't really know her. "Well, um . . . When can Lupin get here? It's sort of important . . . I've got to, um, Go to a Death Eater meeting."

"With Snape?" she asked tentatively.

"What the hell? Did Lupin tell you? That was supposed to be secret! Does he just go around telling everybody we're dating? For the love of God!" I snapped, pursing my lips and letting out a harsh breath.

Tonks blinked a few times. "Er . . . I didn't know you two were dating . . . I just meant because You-Know-Who said he was supposed to take you under his wing. Remus didn't tell me anything."

I blinked a few times, feeling rather stupid. She hadn't known a thing, and I'd gone and blurted it out. "Oh . . . Oh, er . . . Yeah . . ."

I knew she was going to pull the whole righteous act on me. I just knew it.

"What's it like, dating an older guy?" she asked from out of nowhere.

All right, now I was confused. "Um . . . I don't know, he's the only one I've ever dated . . . Can we just pretend this conversation never happened? Not a lot of people are supposed to know about it." She nodded quickly. "Why do you care anyway? Just being a curious little Gryffindor?" I said, scowling a little. All right, so maybe I wasn't the nicest person in the mornings. Or maybe Severus was rubbing off on me.

"I was in Hufflepuff," she stated.

I blinked a few times. Oh, well . . . I didn't see that one coming. I just assumed she was in Gryffindor because . . . Well, I don't know, I just assumed. I just always imagined Hufflepuffs all quiet and boring and in the background. I knew Cedric Diggory was a Hufflepuff and he was kind to me once (like the only time we ever even talked) but still, I never really pictured a Hufflepuff being so, well . . . Cool. Perhaps I was the prejudiced one . . .

"Oh, cool. That's cool." I let go of Gabriel's hand. Gabriel was practically sleeping while he stood up. "I'll be back to pick him up." She smiled half-heartedly at me, then took Gabriel's hand, leading him out of the kitchen probably with the intention of taking him to a room. After the kitchen door shut, I heard a loud crashing noise--she probably tripped over something--and Mrs. Black start screaming insults.

I let out an agitated sigh, shaking my head.

* * *

Whenever the Malfoy family had a party or a celebratory dinner, people didn't just show up in their everyday robes. Not unless they wanted to be insulted then forced out of the manor.

So I was wearing silky green robes and I had my hair pulled up with tendrils hanging around my face. Some would say I did the up-do to look good, however I wore it because we had about three seconds to get ready and Severus had said I was taking up too much time in the loo doing my hair, so he pranced right in like he owned the place--all right, so he did, but I could have been naked or using the toilet for all he knew!--and just started pulling my hair up and twisting it as quickly as possible. It hurt like a bitch and I kept snapping at him to leave it alone, and I'll admit I was struggling a little which probably made it hurt, but when he let go of me I realized that my hair actually looked pretty. Even though it was done quickly-then again, that was the point of doing an up-do, wasn't it? To look good quickly. Or at least, that's what I'd heard Pansy Parkinson say a few times. When I'd given him a strange look, he simply replied with, "Lily used to let me do her hair."

So I understood why everybody was wearing rather nice robes. Even Severus was wearing nice robes--these green ones I'd seen him wear once.

I felt someone prod my back, and I turned around. "Hey, Draco, so what's going--" When I turned fully around, I realized that it wasn't Draco, but Astoria Greengrass. I hadn't really talked to Astoria that much. The last time I'd had a conversation with her was during the OWL exams, and since me and Jasmine were in sixth year and she was in fourth, we sat around the table and talked.

I remembered that conversation quite well, in fact. It was the same day Sirius died, right before I had to go to Umbridge's office and hold Ginny Weasley while she thrashed around. Jasmine had told us she had a Hufflepuff twin brother named Hibiscus, and then Draco walked in laughing to tell us about Harry having a fit during the test. Draco and Astoria had made fun of each other's names, but had both liked the name Scorpius.

The only reason I even cared about that conversation was because she was named after the town her father was born in--which was a port in Oregon. In America. Astoria had the same blue eyes as Gabriel and had the same pout. So it was a bit creepy being around her, seeing as Gabriel's mother had been raped by an American.

I could only hope that it was a coincidence.

"What are you doing here?"

"Dad got invited, so he dragged the family. Daphne wants to be a Death Eater, so he thought it would be a learning experience." I smiled at her, although I was really feeling quite sick. It's not like I wanted to see Draco become a Death Eater, seeing as I wasn't one. But I had to keep up my image, so I just smiled. "Trust me, I would not come here otherwise. Like I care about Draco; he's such a prat."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "That's great Astoria; really. So did you just tap me on the shoulder to tell me Draco was a prat or what?" I snapped, blinking at her in annoyance. Even though Draco was a prat, he was still my friend, so it's not like I really wanted to hear it. Besides, less than ten hours ago, I had been murdering and torturing muggles, then I'd gotten in a fight with Severus, then I'd stayed awake all night trying to think of what to write on that letter . . . So I wasn't exactly in my best of moods.

"No, um . . ." She shifted a little. "Do you want to meet my parents? Everyone else who's here is . . . Well, a prat, and you're the only Death Eater I like."

I remembered--from that conversation about names--that she hated Death Eaters, so it was somewhat ego-boosting. "And you're not supportive . . . And if they suspect you of being a blood-traitor, they will kill you, won't they?" I said. Her face fell and I noticed she paled slightly. "I'm a Slytherin too, Astoria. I know a few tricks or two about manipulating a situation to get what you want. You want me to pretend to go over there, pretend to be your friend, so that they won't start wondering, am I right?"

She looked downward, then back at me, her jaw set and her lips pursed. Her blue eyes darkened. I knew that face. Gabriel had it. Son of a bitch. _Please_ let that be coincidence. I waited for her to say something, to deny it, but she didn't.

She looked rather pretty today. She was normally a very plain girl always being overshadowed by her far prettier sister Daphne. In that conversation, she had mentioned she envied pretty people. But today, she was pretty. She'd curled her hair, and put make up on, something I'd never seen her do before. She was just . . . So normal. A normal person. And I had her life in my hands. It was an oddly powerful feeling. If I said no, her parents would start wondering, and it could end in her death.

Of course I was going to say yes. Btu I was in an irritable mood, and waiting for a few seconds would make her worry. It was sadistic, yeah, but at the moment, I didn't care. I wasn't having a good day.

"Take me to them," I said, smiling at her.

She let out a breath, then jerked her head in the direction of where I assumed her parents were.

I followed her, noticing that Severus' black eyes were following me. I thought he looked a bit worried, but I couldn't think of any reason why.

She took me to her mother, who looked more like Daphne than Astoria. She had golden-blonde hair that was pulled up in a style similar to mine. She had blue-green eyes that really stuck out, only because she outlined her lids in a kohl and had shadowed around that with green. She was wearing robes made of baby-blue. For some weird reason, she reminded me of my mother, even though they didn't' really look alike. They both had blonde hair, yes, and my mum had had blue eyes. They were both rather beautiful--more so than me--but that wasn't it. She seemed to have an . . . artificial air about her.

"This is my friend, Danielle," Astoria said, smiling. "Danielle, this is my mum."

"You killed your mother, last year, yes?" she said, without any preamble whatsoever.

"Yes," I admitted, and I had to force myself to smile.

She nodded once, and suddenly, she grinned. It was a real grin, that brought sparkles to her eyes. "Now that is loyalty! I would have done the same, had the Dark Lord asked. Some of these people, I really doubt they actually care about the cause."

I shrugged it off. "I do what the Dark Lord asks of me," I told her, shrugging. It was easy to act this way in conversation. It was so strange how it easy it was to act unconcerned. It was far easier than actually doing the task he asked.

"Ah! Daphne!" Astoria's mother exclaimed, and the grin on her face widened. She brushed right past us and pulled Daphne into a hug. "I was afraid you'd be late. Where's your father?"

"He's coming."

"Here, I want you to meet Danielle--she killed her own mother, Daphne. She was a filthy mudblood, of course. This is who I want you to be like if the Dark Lord decides to accept you. You know how he is about picking women, though. But here, I want you to meet her." She literally pushed the beautiful Daphne in front of me. Daphne looked very much like her mother, except Daphne had brunette hair. They were even wearing the same colour. And she was obviously wearing a more expensive robe than Astoria was.

And I suddenly understood what it was about Astoria's mother that reminded me of mine. She didn't' really love Astoria. Just like my mother didn't love me. I wouldn't have ever figured it out if I had never seen the genuine love she had for Daphne. I suddenly hated Daphne, in that instant. Not that I liked her before, but now, I hated her.

We shook hands briefly, then I went over and stood by Astoria, who kept shooting brief glares at Daphne when she wasn't paying attention.

Her mother kept trying to get me to get in a discussion with Daphne, and basically pull me away from Astoria, but I would answer her questions as quickly as possible, then turn to Astoria and start up a conversation as if we talked every day, which we didn't, but I think I managed to pull of familiarity.

And then her bloody dad showed up.

And I recognized him immediately. Unwillingly, I remembered Gabriel's mother's memories--remembered how he'd handed her a cup of coffee with the steam rising in spirals, how she remarked the coffee smelled like hazelnut and how she loved that smell . . . How the amortentia wore off by the time he got her on the bed, and how he violently raped her.

Because of this man, Gabriel's mother had been shunned by her family because she was too ashamed to tell them she had been raped. She hadn't understood why one second she was in love with him, and the next, she wasn't. Maybe that's why she felt ashamed, or maybe she just did because he raped her. I don't know, I've never been raped, so I don't understand how a girl can feel dirty over something that wasn't her fault. Jasmine would, I suppose, but I would never ask her. It wasn't my business. But he had raped a girl, forcibly raped her, and now he was standing in front of me, smiling. That bastard didn't deserve to live. And yet, here he was, alive, while the girl he'd forced himself on was dead.

Even though I had pretty much figured it out, and I wasn't shocked at all, my heart still leapt into my throat. I wanted to kill him. I hated him even more than I hated Daphne. More than I hated Voldemort. I had seen those memories, _felt_ those memories, felt the feelings as she had felt them . . . Now I would never go so far as to say I knew what she'd been through because it was only a ghost of everything she felt. I had never been raped, so I would never claim to know just how she felt. I swear I could feel my blood boil in my veins, I swear it was like acid swam through me, sparking every nerve inside of me. I wanted to kill him.

"Hi," I greeted cheerily, smiling at him.

"And you are?" he asked, sidling up to his wife, his sparkling blue eyes looking me over. He had brown hair, like Gabriel. He also had the same round face. He looked very much like Gabriel, only he lacked the warmth and sincerity. Like an evil, cold-hearted Gabriel mixed with Astoria. In fact, looking at Astoria, she looked very much like her father, but she had dirty-blonde hair instead.

"I'm Danielle," I said, shaking his hand, but only because he offered it.

I saw how his eyes trailed over me. Or maybe I imagined it. "You're quite a striking young lady, aren't you?" He was still clutching my hand.

His wife put a hand on his shoulder. "Severus has the Claim on her, dear."

What the hell? _What the hell?_ I think I almost vomited. I pulled my hand out of his and smiled at him, acting as if this was something I considered normal. Judging by Daphne lack of interest in the proceedings, it must have been.

Astoria glanced at me briefly, but quickly looked away when she saw I was looking at her.

"So you're American?" I inquired, wanting to change the subject as quickly as possible. I looked around the drawing room to see Severus. He was staring at me. He wasn't even trying to hide it. He was holding his wand in his right hand, twirling it around his fingers. Severus did stuff with his hands when he was nervous. And I doubt he would be holding his wand for no reason. Btu just because I knew what he was feeling and what he was doing didn't mean I knew why.

Her father nodded. "Yup. Born in Astoria. Named her after the town, because me an' her met at the Astoria ballroom. We would have named Daphne that, but Daphne is a family name, so we had to name the eldest that. Of course. We woulda named her Scorpius had she been a boy though. You two friends, I hear? Astoria told us you were."

"Yes," I answered shortly, not knowing what else to say. I wanted to be away form him.

"So Severus huh? How the hell did that happen? You're a bit pretty to be with him, aren't ya?" I hadn't ever really been told I was pretty often. My mum called me pretty sometimes, and Gabriel told me Severus did when I wasn't around . . . And Draco had called me pretty a few times in my life . . . But I hadn't really heard it a lot. The fact that he had called me attractive twice in less than ten seconds really unnerved me. Not only because it wasn't something people did often when around me, but because I knew what he was capable of.

"I'm happy with him, thanks. Let's get a drink, Astoria," I said, turning away and walking towards table that had the various drinks on it. When was Draco going to get his stupid Dark Mark? I wanted to leave already.

"I didn't know Snape had the Claim on you," she said.

I glared at her. "You'll keep your bloody mouth shut about that, or you'll regret it, Astoria," I growled.

She raised both of her hands. "Hey, hey, I'm not judging. I don't care. You're old enough to make your decisions. As long as he isn't raping you and you're not, like, a child, I don't care. Besides, you know what you just did for me. You think I'm just gonna throw that away? You know what I think about You-Know-Who. You could do a lot of damage to me knowing that. You think I'm gonna piss you off?"

"Shut up, Astoria, I'm not gonna kill you," I snapped.

She nodded, then stood beside the table and started pouring herself a glass of wine. "You don't know how lucky you are," she muttered.

"Why, because now your dad can't rape me Thanks, I got the bloody memo."

She knocked over her glass and spilled red wine all over the tablecloth. She set the wine bottle down and waved her wand, cleaning the spill immediately. "I was talking about dating Snape. He's a good man."

Well, now I felt like a bitch.

"But yes, that too. Mum and Dad are . . . Well, let's say they're perfect for each other. He's an exhibitionist. She's a voyeur. They both get off on rape. She likes to watch. They like to have threesomes, too. She's not so innocent herself." She was staring at the tablecloth, and avoiding my eyes.

"Do they . . . touch you?" I asked, feeling awkward.

"God no, they're not incest!" she snapped, looking at me as if I had offended her somehow. "They have some morals, you know! They would never touch me or Daphne. And I would never bleeding let them. I'd rather die than let them . . . do that. I'd kill them in their sleep. You think I don't know what they do, huh? I walked in on them once," she grumbled.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "I'm sorry."

"I know the boy is my half-brother. That boy you had over. He looks just like my dad." I blinked a few times, stunned at her random bluntness. Her eyes met mine. "So I know he's not Snape's. Where did you get him? The two of you. Now that I know you two are together, I know that both of you were lying, and not just him."

"His mother is dead. The Dark Lord killed her."

"And you're taking care of the boy. Let me guess--nobody knows who he really is?" I didn't have to say anything. I knew she knew the answer was yes. "If you tell a bloody soul about how I hate Death Eaters, that I don't' want to be one, my last words on this earth will be me telling the Death Eater killing me that you saved a victim. They might not believe me, but You-Know-Who isn't stupid, and he'll check, and kill both of you."

"I told you, I wasn't going to kill you, Astoria, so you don't even need to worry," I snapped.

"You killed your own mother." That was like a stab to the gut. She smirked at me. "And I'm not stupid, Danielle. If you saved a boy that jeopardized your master, and Snape is helping you take care of him . . ."

She knew. Oh my God, she knew.

"Death Eater comes after me, I have valuable information, don't you think? That sort of information would prove my loyalty. I prove my loyalty, there is no need to kill me anymore, is there?"

I stepped right in front of her, and she looked frightened for a second, like she was going to scamper off. She was too smart for her own good. "Astoria, you know as well as I do that I wouldn't kill you. I killed my mother because I was ordered to."

"Then you better make sure that you'll never be ordered to kill me."

"I won't," I promised. "I won't ever kill you. As long as you hang out with me, no one will even think of killing you."

She let out a sigh, and she looked extremely relieved. "Thank God. I was worried there for a moment. But you have toe understand, I need to look out for myself. If I don't blackmail you, I might die. My family isn't stupid. They thought I was lying about me and you being friends. Which I was."

"Well not anymore," I said, smiling at her.

"Yeah, only to save your arse."

"No, to save yours. Obviously, I mean, I went over there to talk to your parents before you . . ." Before she asked me to help her. Because I was the only Death Eater she liked. "You knew before tonight. How long have you known?"

"Since you brought the kid," she admitted. "I just didn't say anything before now because I didn't think I'd have to use it."

I never would have been able to manipulate the situation she just did. I had just been manipulated by a plain-looking fifteen-year-old. If Draco wasn't the poster child for Slytherin, she would be.

"Oh . . . Um, wouldn't Daphne figure it out?"

"No. She doesn't know what Mum and Dad do. I walked in on them, they explained, end of story. She probably didn't even notice they looked similar, and if she did, she probably just brushed it off. Just because you look like someone doesn't mean you're related to them."

"What are you two ladies up to?" Draco said, suddenly stepping beside us. I jumped a little, surprised at his sudden appearance.

"Talking about our periods," Astoria said, looking him straight in the eye.

"That's fascinating," he said, although it was obvious by his tone he was being sarcastic.

She was quite smart. Most men wouldn't want to discuss the menstrual cycle, and so that meant he wasn't going to ask any more questions about what we'd discussed. Why the hell wasn't she the spy?

"So what are you up to?" I asked, smiling at him.

His grey eyes barely glanced at me. He wasn't looking at my eyes so much as my forehead before he quickly looked away. "Getting ready for my Mark. I've got a job to do and everything. Can't tell you what it is, though. Top secret." He smirked.

"Ever so interesting," Astoria said, shaking her head in distaste.

"I don't remember giving _you_ an invitation," he drawled.

"I doubt he really gave you something secret. You're just trying to impress us."

He stood right in front of her, a full head taller than she was. "You think so, Astoria?"

"Yeah, I do. Everyone knows you're a show off."

"Well I can guarantee that I've got a job to do. The Dark Lord doesn't let you get the Mark without something to prove your loyalty with. Dani here killed her own mother. I have something else to do. Can't say, though. But you'll know what it is when it happens, I promise you that."

"Yeah, okay," she muttered, but she obviously didn't believe him. "Where's Pansy? Didn't know the umbilical cord stretched so far."

"Pansy is with her mother. Apparently Crabbe, the bloody idiot, spilled some wine all over her new robes and now she has to go buy more. I gave her a few galleons. It's all right, though, the Dark Lord isn't here yet. I hope she gets back before he does. Don't want her missing me get the Mark."

I reached forward and patted his shoulder. "Don't worry; she won't."

"We had sex for the first time last night," he blurted.

"Wow," Astoria said, looking at him. "I thought that--I mean, not that it's bad or anything--but I thought you two already had."

He turned back to look at her and snarled. "What? You think I want my first time to be in the common room where everyone can see? Not bloody likely--and not in the girls' dormitory because boys can't get up there, and not in mien because I don't want Crabbe And Goyle standing on the foot of my bed asking for tips. That's sort of a private thing, don't you think? Besides, I love her. I wanted it to be special, and a broom closet just isn't."

Even though he had just snapped at her, she genuinely smiled at him. "That's really nice, Draco. I mean it." She tucked a curled, dirty-blonde bang behind her ear.

He looked a little unsure of what to do, then nodded once. "Right. Yeah." he then turned to me, looking a little disoriented. "But I think I bollixed it up. She was bleeding."

"Well, duh, Draco. A girl's first time hurts and bleeds," I said, like it was obvious. Well, it was obvious. Not that I knew from experience, but well, it was something that I knew.

"Oh . . . Well, Father never told me that . . ." He frowned a bit, and pursed his lips.

"Have you seen him lately?" I asked, feeling a little bad for him, since his father was in Azkaban. Even if Lucius was a Death Eater bastard who deserved it, I still felt bad. I liked him.

He scowled. "Yes. And Potter will pay for it."

"Yeah . . ." I mumbled, realizing that my hand was still on his shoulder, and I pulled it away quickly.

Draco seemed to catch on, then stepped closer to me. Almost too close. "She isn't here. Look, Dani, I won't lie to you. I did love you. For a long time. When you and I were fighting, I realized that . . . That you mean more to me than Pansy. But I also felt, um . . . Sick, to my stomach. I suppose I was getting, er, my feelings confused. You mean more to me than Pansy, but not in _that_ way. I thought I wanted you, thought I was in love with you, but when That Thing happened, I knew that it was just . . . you're my best friend. Like . . . Like a sister. But let's not talk about this again, all right? You're like a sister to me. It took a hand job and a fingering to get it through my head, but . . . Yeah, we feel the same about each other."

I stared into his eyes, hoping to God he was telling the truth. After a few seconds, I realized he was being honest. Well. That certainly didn't seem as epic as I thought it would have been. Then again, I'd just had someone I hardly paid attention to tell me she knew about my loyalties as well as Severus'. Of course it wouldn't seem as epic.

"But we won't talk about this ever again, okay?" he said, his grey eyes flitting back and forth.

I let out a relieved sigh. "Of course not."

"Right. Well, now that we have that established--and we will never discuss it again--I have another thing I want to talk to you about." I nodded, urging him on. "So . . . I was told about the, er, the Claim. And, now I'm not saying we have to do it, but I could just say I've claimed you and that I have two girlfriends It's not like they check to make sure. I just don't' want you being raped, you know."

"Are you serious, Draco?" Astoria said.

"Were you in this bloody conversation?" he snapped at her. "Go away!"

"You would really _lie_ to the Dark Lord to protect her?"

"Well if you heard that then you must have heard that she is like a sister to me so yeah, I would, you stupid bitch, and don't think I won't Obliviate you so don't even think about telling anyone," he growled threateningly.

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "I wasn't gonna say anything. I just think that's really . . . Thoughtful. It surprised me, is all." Draco reeled backward a little, apparently shocked at what she'd said. "But you don't need to worry, Snape's already made the Claim on her."

"Astoria!" I snapped.

"Oh, right, okay," he said, as if he thought it was completely okay. He then turned to me, smiling a little. "Well, then, that takes care of--" Then he furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head a little. "Wait, Snape? _Severus_ has a Claim on you?"

"Where do you think I've been living Draco?" I muttered, glaring at Astoria, who was pointedly looking away from me.

"Which is why you haven't invited me over." He then glared at me, pursing his lips. "Why didn't you tell me? You think I care? We're supposed to be friends!"

"Right, because I want Pansy finding out and telling the whole world and getting him fired."

"Well I wont' tell Pansy then."

"Fine," I snapped.

"Fine," he snapped back.

"Draco ,what are you doing?" Pansy said, coming up to him, looping her arm through his.

He sidled up to her and smiled briefly. "Talking. Come on, let's go." They walked off together, leaving Astoria alone with me.

"He's not as bad as he likes to pretend he is, is he?" she said while she sipped her wine.

I shrugged. "No, he really is a prat."

"No, I meant . . . He actually cares about people. I mean, he doesn't pity them or anything, but I think he really cares. Typical Gemini."

I just chuckled.

"Danielle, Miss Greengrass," Severus greeted, standing beside me, and pouring himself a glass. "Did Draco tell you when the Dark Lord would be here?" he asked just before he started to take a drink.

"Why? Wanna go shag Danielle?" Astoria said with a smirk.

Severus choked and spluttered a little. He sat his glass down while he started coughing. After a few seconds, he looked at her, and wheezed a little. "What?" His voice was raspy.

"My dad just told me you Claimed her."

Snape's face turned brick red and he opened his mouth to yell at her, I assume, but then the Dark Lord swept into the room, his black cloak rippling behind him, his red eyes searching the room to see who had come.

"Come, Draco," he said, lifting one, long, bony finger, and indicating for him to walk closer. Draco's face visibly paled, but he strode up to him confidently, and lifted up his left sleeve.

"How's my half-brother, Snape? Know about you loyalties?" Astoria asked with a smirk.

Before Severus could say anything, the Dark Lord shouted his spell, and we all turned to see Draco's face turn a delicate shade of green while he closed his eyes tightly and clenched his teeth.

"Astoria, you will accompany Danielle home, and all three of us will have a discussion."

I glared at Astoria, and she looked a little worried. Then again, I would be worried too if Severus was looking at me the way he was at her.


	57. Chapter 60

Chapter 60: The Truth Hurts

Severus thrust Astoria up against the wall, her head bouncing off of it. His sudden violent action stunned me and I jumped, and she let out a small shriek.

We had all socialised for awhile, but then when it was over, Astoria had told her parents she was coming to hang out with me. Severus had used Side-Along Apparation with both of us. Three seconds after we appeared into the living room, he'd grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her against the wall.

He pointed a wand at her forehead, and I saw her eyes start to water. "How long have you known?" he growled.

"Since--Since she brought the boy to the Slytherin common room," she said weakly.

He gave her a little shake, and snarled. I stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do. "I'm not talking about Gabriel, I'm speaking of my loyalties!"

"That's when I knew! When she brought my half-brother--Gabriel?--I knew th-that you weren't a Death Eater," she said quickly, and I caught her voice wavering. I bet she really regretted opening her mouth now. She wasn't so confident and full of herself now that she was pressed up against a wall with a wand between her eyes.

"How?"

"I-I knew that the Dark Lord wanted to have him killed, and when he wasn't, an-and no true Death Eater would let a boy live who-who could jeopardize their master, a-and since you said he was your half-brother when I knew he wasn't, I-I just pieced it together," she stammered, and I saw tears streak down her eyes, and I suddenly felt bad for her. Severus could be quiet scary when he wanted to be, and even though we had gotten into fights, he'd never thrust me up against a wall like that and had a wand pointed at my forehead.

"Who else knows of our loyalties? Who have you told?" he demanded, squeezing her upper arm tighter, staring directly into her eyes.

"Nobody, I haven't told a soul, I swear!" she exclaimed, her voice cracking and shaking with fear

He let go of her arm roughly and stepped back, but moved his wand so it was beside her jugular, pressing into it. "What do you mean, the Dark Lord wanted him to be killed?"

"It wasn't a coincidence, Professor. Things like this don't just happen by coincidence," she said, and I heard her swallow. "His mother--Gabriel, that was his name, right?" Severus nodded curtly and she closed her eyes tightly, more tears running down her face. "His mother . . . She, um, she somehow tracked my dad down, I don't know, and she threatened to, um . . . Make him pay some sort of fee, money, I don't really understand muggle things. And Mum and Dad were talking about how if they started investigating into our family, she would know about wizards, and they told the Dark Lord, and he ordered them to be killed, so that they wouldn't figure out wizards existed. Do you think that the Dark Lord just walks around muggle London? He wanted to be seen; he wanted them to be killed. Gabriel and his mother weren't random victims. The only thing coincidental about this situation is, um . . . Danielle."

"What do you mean?" I asked, although I wasn't the one interrogating her.

"Are you really that stupid?" she asked, glaring at me, but then Severus pushed the wand against her throat more forcefully. She whimpered and shrunk back against the wall a bit. "You had to prove your loyalty to the Dark Lord by killing him. I just assumed you had--Dad told me you did--and they sort of showed me a picture of him. He was supposed to be killed because he was my dad's kid. You just happened to save him."

"Why did you tell us this?" Severus asked.

"Because . . . Because I don't like Death Eaters. I don't want to be one, and my family, they . . . They would kill me if they found out. So I wanted Danielle to help me, but if she didn't, I told her I would tell the Dark Lord she wasn't loyal, and that way he would think I was," she said weakly. She must have known that would make Severus angry, because she winced.

She was right.

"You dare threaten my girlfriend?" he growled, leaning closer to her. "How do you know I won't kill you now, to protect myself? You must know I've killed before. And if killing one would save thousands, I am not opposed to it. Give me one reason why I shouldn't, Miss Greengrass."

"I . . . I don't know, sir," she sobbed.

I reached forward to pull Severus back, but he spoke before I could get to him. "Then why did you tell us? Had I information such as this, I would not advertise it to the people who were in danger because of it."

"You--you would if it was the only way to save your life from your own family," she said quietly.

"And I suppose killing you could save mine."

"Please! Don't! I--I can help you! Anything you want! Please!" she shouted through her sobs.

Severus was being a bit harsh. I mean, it wasn't like she went and told someone else--personally, I was glad she told me. I would rather know someone knew of my loyalties than not know. I reached forward to pull him away again.

"Quit your simpering, I'm not going to kill you," he spat, then leaned forward, pressing the wand deeper into her throat. "But I could have. This isn't a game, Miss Greengrass--this is reality. Next time you have information such as this, it would best suit you to keep your mouth shut."

"Yes, sir, I . . . I just thought you should know . . ."

"You thought you could manipulate me; I'm not daft," he growled. He stepped away from her, removing his wand from her throat, and she fell to her knees, gasping and sniffling, tears dripping freely.

He turned towards me, most likely to tell me to send her home or something, but just then, a phoenix patronus appeared in his living room--it was obviously Dumbledore. "Come, Severus. Quickly," it said, then disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared. Dumbledore sounded weak, like he might faint.

"Pick up Gabriel," Severus ordered in a clipped tone, then looked down at Astoria with disgust etched onto his face. "And makes sure she gets home. Quit your crying, Miss Greengrass, it would not do well for me if you went home looking like a drowned rat." And with that, he spun on the spot and Disapparated with a pop.

I stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do. I knew Severus was going to be in a bad mood today because of how early we woke up and the incident with the revel last night, so I wasn't' surprised, but I still had no idea what to do.

I went over and put my hand on Astoria's arm and she flinched. I pulled my hand away quickly. "Sorry," she muttered, then stood up, wiping her face. He eyes looked me over, and she tucked a stray strand of dirty-blonde hair behind her ear. "Can I come with you?"

I shook my head. "It's a secret place, and I'm not . . . able to, ah, tell you its location."

She nodded slowly. "Can I . . . um, stay here? I mean, just to see him? Gabriel?" I furrowed my eyebrows. For some reason it never occurred to me that she might want to see him. I think she must have misunderstood my expression because she hastily said; "If--if I can't it's not a big deal."

I shook my head and smiled at her. "It's okay, really. Um, Gabriel's room is the last on the right. It's got cars and stuff in it. "Did you, uh, want something to eat or anything? I can pick up something on the way back--the Malfoys give me an allowance."

She shook her head. "I'm fine. I had my fill of crisps and chips at the party."

I nodded. "All right. I'll be back, then."

I Disapparated, mentally thanking the Malfoy family as I did. Lucius, obviously before he was sent to Azkaban, had managed to put some sort of barrier around me, so that I could perform underage magic. The Trace can usually only be removed when someone turns seventeen, but it isn't especially difficult to get it removed early if one knows certain, ah, influential people. He had my Trace removed, saying that he wished for me to get "better practice" with Disapparation, and that he didn't want to flood the Ministry's mail box full of letters saying I'd been Apparating all over the place. He said that because my mother had died, I didn't have a proper guardian, and he took it upon himself to help me learn the proper wizarding ways. Up until his arrest, he could sway the minister quite easily. Really, the only reason he'd gotten my Trace removed was because I lived with Severus, and if I performed underage magic, it would show that I was doing it in my Professor's house, and we were certain the ministry wouldn't be too happy with me living with my Potions master.

The kitchen to Grimmauld Place was empty. I preferred to Apparate there, because it muffled most sound so Mrs. Black wouldn't start screaming, and I didn't want to Apparate in anybody's room, lest I interrupt something private, like masturbation.

I stood there for a second, wondering if perhaps I should have sent off a Patronus to Tonks, saying I was on my way. Oh well. Ti didn't matter. Gabriel was probably napping in Regulus' room (it had pretty much become his room officially, and I could see why, it was an awesome room) because he wanted to stay away from anything that reminded him of Sirius. Then again, so did I. Not that I didn't like Sirius or Gryffindors really, but I didn't quite like his room. I didn't really want to be reminded of him because that only forced me to think of his death, and also, I didn't really like his colour scheme. Red and gold didn't really look good and it was harsh on my eyes. The only time red and gold looked nice together was when it was actually a deep crimson, or blood red, and the yellow was a muted gold. Unfortunately, usually, it was a cheery red mixed with piss-yellow, and so it looked more like vomit.

I was just about to leave the kitchen was Lupin walked in. eh shut the door quietly behind him and smiled softly at me. "I was just outside, in the hallway. You're here to pick up Gabriel, then?"

I nodded, a little confused. "Um . . . Yeah."

"And how did the meeting go?" he asked genially, walking over to me.

I felt a little uncomfortable, unwillingly remembering what Severus had said earlier about Lupin fancying Lily as well. "Well . . . It wasn't' great," I answered, maybe a bit evasively. "Where's Tonks? She was here when I dropped him off."

"I wasn't' feeling quite well this morning, but when I rested a bit I came and dismissed her." He reached forward to pat my shoulder or something, but I stepped back a little. When I saw the confused and somewhat hurt expression on his face, I felt a little bad about it. "What's the matter?"

"Severus told me you had feelings for Lily when you were at Hogwarts," I told him bluntly, hoping I wouldn't regret it.

Lupin's face fell. "I didn't love her, Danielle."

"Are you saying Severus lied to me, then?" I asked waspishly.

He sighed and shook his head a little. "Severus . . . Is blinded. He loves her so much he cannot possible understand why anyone wouldn't be in love with her."

I furrowed my eyebrows .Well, that did make some sense . . . All right, so a lot of sense. "Oh . . . Right, okay . . ."

"It's not fair, what he's done to you . . ." he muttered, looking downward. What the hell did that mean? He looked up and my confusion must have shown, because he went on to explain. "he's . . . he's convinced you that she's perfect. He's gotten you to love her as well; put her up on a pedestal. You compare yourself to her, Danielle--"

"I do not," I interjected.

"Yes, you do. And it's not right for him to allow that. You'll never measure up if you think she's perfect, because there's no such thing as perfection. Lily . . . wasn't perfect, Danielle. I respected her, but . . . I could never love her."

Although I wanted to smack him silly, I was also a bit curious. "What do you mean? So you're saying you're better than her or something?"

"No, no, that's not what I'm saying at all," he explained hastily. "I just meant . . . That her and I weren't . . . compatible. Let me explain. I will admit that Sirius and James weren't the kindest of students. Severus wasn't the only one they teased. But even though I didn't like the fact they . . . Did some things, I always stood by them. Lily had, ah, friends other than Severus, and they all spoke badly of him, told her that she deserved better, that they didn't' understand why she hung out with him . . ."

I furrowed my eyebrows. I didn't' like where this was going.

"Lily knew what Severus called people of her birth, and she allowed it. It never upset her, until he said it to her. It was only wrong when he used it towards her, even though he'd used it before . . . And I wish I could tell you differently, but her other friends nagging was a factor as well. She didn't have much of a sense of humour, either, and she often would blame others when she did something wrong. She was cheeky and talked back to her teachers, yet she would become irritated when others did the same."

I narrowed my eyes and pursed my lips. What the hell did he know of Lily? "So you're calling her a hypocritical shallow brat who couldn't take a joke? Is that what you're saying?"

He opened his mouth and sighed again, almost exasperatedly. "Those weren't her only qualities, Danielle. Yes, she did have those traits, but I'm not saying those were her only--"

"So she was a bitch, huh? She was some stupid, annoying bint who isn't _good_ enough--"

"You're taking what I said out of context," he interrupted a bit loudly, and for once I thought he was going to yell, but he didn't. "I'm merely saying that she wasn't perfect, and that I did not harbour feelings for her for those traits. I respected her and liked her, but I did not love her. Severus did and so I understand why he overlooked her, ah, imperfections--nobody is perfect, Danielle--and it's unfair of him to make you feel less than, for him to convince you to put her on a pedestal--unintentionally, of course, I don't think he would do this purposely--"

"Shut up!" I shouted. His mouth worked for a moment, then he shut up. "Just stop talking! God, you--you stupid--" How I wished I were Severus or Draco at the moment. They would know the right thing to say to frustrate him. "You stupid--little--rabid werewolf!" I spat, finally thinking of something mildly insulting, although I was sure me stuttering didn't help the delivery.

I didn't wait for him to say anything back, I just left the kitchen, slamming the door shut behind me. Its slamming awakened Mrs. Black, who started shouting out insults, the curtain covering her shooting out and flapping violently. I stormed upstairs, ignoring her yells.

When I walked into Regulus' old room, I saw Gabriel on the floor, playing with a toy car that moved magically across the floor on its own volition. He glanced up at me, eyes sparkling. "Hey Dani. Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, sure," I said, trying to hide my clipped tone.

He looked at me warily, and I figured I must not have hidden my tone very well. "Um, how come I can't do magic all the time? I did it that one time, and the house was all shaking and stuff, but I can't do it now. How come?"

I blinked a few times, remember that moment quite clearly. "Oh . . . Um, emotions play a part in it. When you're young, the magic just sorta happens whenever you feel a really strong emotion, I guess. I got mad at my mum once and the light bulbs blew up. And one time ,I got really scared because I had a nightmare, and all the lights turned on by themselves."

"Oh . . . So I'm not special or anything? The house doing that wasn't, like . . . anything cool?" he inquired, looking a bit sad at the fact.

I went over to him and sat, putting my hand on his shoulder. "You were really angry, Explosively angry. I doubt many kids have to, ah . . . overhear what you did that night. The magic, um . . . Reflected your emotions and how strong they were. So, no, that isn't um . . . unique." I squeezed his arm and smiled at him. "But you are special. Don't ever think you're not."

He smiled at me, then hugged me, which was a bit awkward seeing as I was kneeling, but it made me feel better. "Okay. Thanks Dani."

I stood up and helped him stand too, holding onto his arm. "Come on, let's go home."

I Disapparated back into Spinner's End, and I heard Gabriel moan next to me. I hadn't liked the feeling of Apparation either, but it was faster and convenient.

"Hi!" Gabriel greeted loudly, and I didn't know why. Until I saw Astoria in the living room, face still a little red and eyes slightly puffy. "Why are you crying?"

She shook her head an smiled. "No reason, Just, uh . . . Well, girl stuff."

Gabriel nodded like he completely understood what she meant. "Like periods and stuffs," he said sagely. I snorted back a chuckle and Gabriel let go of my hand. "It's okay. One time Danielle started her period on the bed, and it got and her and Severus's sheets."

Astoria started laughing loudly and I felt my cheeks burn. "Dammit, Gabriel!" I snapped, and he looked up at me all innocently, eyes sparkling and widening, bottom mouth trembling.

He was manipulating me.

Oh well.

"So what are you doing here? Are you a Malfoy?"

"What? God no. I'd rather die than be a Malfoy," she informed with a snarl, and I glared at her. Seriously, she knew Draco was my best friend, did she have to be constantly say stuff like that?

"Oh, but are you a Death Eater friend?"

She glanced at me and I nodded briefly. She smiled at Gabriel. "Well, I'm not part of the Inner Circle--you have to be really special to be in the Inner Circle and get a Dark Mark, and even _more_ special if you're a girl. But I am supportive of the Dark Lord," she said, and I was surprised at how easily she lied about it.

Gabriel nodded. "Oh okay. So are you here to hang out with Dani? I've got some cool cars in my room, if you want to play with them. I also have a train."

Astoria looked at me, and I smiled at her. "Yeah, why don't you go show her your room?"

"Okay. Come with us," Gabriel said, heading off towards his room, with me and Astoria following.

* * *

I was starting to get worried about Severus. He'd been gone for hours now.

All three of us had played a game Gabriel made up called "talking cars" which was just basically us driving around on a small carpet that looked like an aerial view of a map and us pretending the cars had personalities and talked to one another for a few hours, then Gabriel showed us how the train worked before Astoria had to go home.

After that ,Gabriel went to bed, and I sat on the edge of his bed, listening to him talk about some of his weird dreams and about all of the things he wanted to do when he got into Hogwarts. He wanted to be an animagus, but I figured a lot of kids would like to be that and never got the chance to. But I went along with it. He also wanted to be a werewolf and a metamorphmagus, although I had told him several times people couldn't "become" a metamorphmagus and being a werewolf wasn't really all that great.. He also wanted to be a parselmouth so he would talk to Prince. Eventually he talked himself to sleep, and I went into the living room and sat on the couch, waiting for Severus.

Eventually I had started pacing, and considered sending off a patronus to see if he was all right, but I never did because I didn't want him thinking I was being paranoid.

I thought over what Lupin had said, and every time I did, I felt myself get angrier. What would he know about Lily? Severus hung out with her constantly and would know more about her anyway. And what would he know about good relationships? When was the last time he'd had a girlfriend? Severus and I had a fine relationship. So sod him and his stupid werewolf addled brain.

Finally, the door opened and Severus walked in. If he was walking in through the front door, that meant he stopped by the park. Which meant he'd had a bad day. Terrific.

He saw me and stopped walking, looking surprised to see me. After a few seconds of us staring at each other, he walked over to the couch and sat, staring ahead of himself dazedly. "I thought you'd be asleep by now."

I went over and sat next to him, staring at his face, trying to discern how he felt. It was a lot harder than I would have liked it to be. He looked a bit like he'd been smacked, or like he'd been doused in cold water. Or maybe like he was lost in thought. Severus wasn't exactly easily read.

"How was Dumbledore?" I asked, preferring not to talk about me pacing for a thousand years, worrying about him.

"He was . . . injured. Badly," he explained.

"What happened?"

"he was being foolish," he explained dully, and I saw him frown slightly. "His hand is . . . cursed. Full of dark magic. It looks dead." For some reason his voice was low and clipped, and I got the feeling it was really bothering him. More so than he was usually bothered.

"Well he can heal it can't he?" I asked. Severus had healed my hand when I decided to be an idiot and punch the hell out of my mirror.

He gave me a look that I would have said was a "duh" expression except Severus doesn't say that word. "He can't regenerate, Danielle. He isn't the Doctor," she snapped, lip curling slightly.

"Doctor who?" I asked quietly.

"Precisely, yes," he muttered, then looked away from me.

I had no idea what he was talking about. "Huh?" he looked back at me, his brows furrowed. "Can't we just take him to the doctor, then?"

"What?" He looked me over, as if he'd never seen me before. "The Doctor. The Time Lord."

"Did he make Time Turners?" I asked slowly.

He sighed. "Never mind. It was an old television show. The Americans recently made a television movie of it, but it was complete shite." He looked away from me, and held his head in his hands.

I felt like a complete idiot, for not realizing he was talking about a television show, but I noticed that he was still acting strangely and oddly upset, so I decided to forget my idiocy. How was I supposed to know? The only muggle television show I'd watched was _Moonlighting._ And that was American, and so the reruns were really behind anyway.

I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. "Will he . . . I mean, is he gonna die?" I asked tentatively, feeling a cold, nauseating pull in my stomach region.

He stopped massaging his temples and sat completely still for a moment.

My heart leapt into my throat and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Shivers went down my spine, and I felt suddenly dizzy. Dumbledore couldn't die. Not after my mother, not after Sirius . . . No. What would we do without him?

"His arm will resemble a decomposing corpse the rest of his life, Danielle," he answered while he lowered his hands from his face and looked at me.

Oh, good. I felt much better.

He reached up and held the side of my face, and I leaned into his palm. "Do you trust me?" he inquired quietly, his thumb stroking the side of my face.

"Well, yeah, you saw it, why shouldn't I?" I said, shrugging.

"I didn't mean--" He shut his mouth and furrowed his eyes, and I realized he wasn't talking about Dumbledore arm. "Do you trust me? Honestly?"

"Yes," I whispered.

He kissed me, but it felt different. It didn't' feel passionate, or warm, or needy. I reciprocated, covering my mouth with his, and I felt wetness slide down his cheeks, and I realized that tears were leaking from underneath his lids. When he pulled away form me his eyes were squeezed shut and he took in a shuddering breath, and I saw him visibly shake.

I felt tears prickle behind my eyes as well, and I yanked him into a hug, and I felt him bury his head in my shoulder, holding me so tightly I nearly lost my breath.

The day must have finally caught up with him. I held him and felt him steady his shaky breath, and felt my robes moisten slightly, although he never fully cried.

I pulled away and ducked my head down, putting my fingers underneath his chin and lifting his head slightly. His black eyes were shimmering and his cheeks were wet. Out eyes met, and I felt a stabbing sensation in my chest. I brush away his greasy, black hair and frowned. "I trust, you Severus. And I love you. Always."

He nodded, and for some reason, he didn't strike me as my older Potions master, or my older boyfriend, even. He reminded me of a scared child. Being a Death Eater must catch up with him too, sometimes. Seeing Dumbledore weak and injured must have frightened him. Although I doubt he would ever admit it, but Severus cared for Dumbledore. He probably viewed him as a father figure, since Tobias had been a rather crappy one.

I kissed his forehead, then kissed down his nose, and finally pressed one against his lips, hoping that would make him feel safer. I'd never seen him shake like that.

When I kissed his mouth he kept his mouth on mine for awhile before pulling away. He held my head and pressed his forehead against mine, his eyes closed again. I kept brushing his hair away from his face. "Are you all right?" I asked, feelign his wet cheeks agiasnt the tip of my fingers.

"Yes. But it really was complete shite," he muttered.

For a second I didn't know what he was talking about, then I saw that his mouth was curved upwards slightly, and I realized he was talking about the Doctor Who movie thing.

I burst out laughing and smacked his arm, watching him smile evilly back at me.

"You really are an asshole sometimes," I said through my chuckles.

"Only sometimes?" he countered with an eyebrow quirk.

That night, he held me in his sleep, tighter than he'd ever held me before. And despite his little jests on the way to the bedroom, I could still feel him shaking. I don't know what had frightened him so, but I hoped that I helped, even if only a little.

* * *

A/N--Sorry about the long update. Real Life happened.

Today, July 1st, is my sister's 18th birthday. Let's all applaud.

June 5th was both Draco Malfoy's 28th birthday, as well as my brother's 16th, so let's all wish them a happy birthday.


	58. Chapter 61

Chapter 61: Cutting Words

My birthday had actually been one of the best I'd ever had, even though we hadn't done anything spectacular. Severus had baked me a cake, chocolate of course, and the bastard put pink candles on it. "To match your toothbrush," he had explained when I raised an eyebrow at him.

He knew I hated pink, and so I knew he was mocking me.

Severus bought me art supplies which I found odd. I did like to draw, but it wasn't something I was passionate about--I mean, I didn't go around proclaiming to be an amazing artist, although I was pretty good at it. Nowhere good as he was, but still, not too shabby, if I did say so myself. But he knew I liked to draw because I always doodled on the back of my notes, plus my very first present I gave to him was a picture of him that I drew. It was odd to think he bought me something that wasn't cliché or obvious--and judging by how many supplies there were in the packet, it hadn't been cheap. It wasn't just pencils, but paint supplies, pastels, charcoal, and a drawing pad with a lot of paper in it. Muggle paper.

Gabriel bought me (with Severus' money) a stuffed Ariel doll. As far as Disney princesses went, I'd always been fond of Ariel. She had red hair, like me. Sort of a silly reason to favour a cartoon character, but I never really saw a lot of glorified gingers. So yeah, I did tend to like her a bit more than the others.

So it wasn't anything really elaborate or glamorous, but it was one of the best I'd ever had. Last year had been pretty much a piece of crap, not surprisingly. It would have been great (that was when I'd got Prince) if not for the fact I had killed my own mother.

"Did you know that this birthday was your special birthday?" Gabriel stated as if it were a well-known fact.

"Special birthday? Aren't all birthdays special?"

"I would like to hear you say that again when you turn thirty," Severus remarked with a smirk directed at me.

"Well, you turned seventeen, and it is the seventeenth . . ." Gabriel said. "When I turn twenty-eight, it will be my special birthday. That means something really epic is going to happen today. That's what my mummy always told me. It was my mummy's sixteenth birthday when she found out she was pregnant with me, and that was her special birthday. Although I guess that's when she found out, not when she actually had sex."

Severus and I glanced at each other. It often made me uncomfortable when Gabriel spoke of those things. For some reason seven seemed far too young to be talking about sex. It wasn't wrong or anything, but his mother had been so young when she had him that Severus and I felt she had wanted a friend instead of a child, and often let him get away with whatever he wanted .hence the reason he said curse words a bit more than any seven-year-old should.

"Well, it's certainly been a lot better than last year," I pointed out with a shrug.

And then it hit me. Today was the anniversary of my mother's death. Today was the first year I hadn't gotten robes for my birthday. I always got robes--really expensive ones too. I had always thought robes as a stupid gift, but now I suddenly wished someone had bought them for me.

For some stupid reason it made my eyes burn. I suddenly thought about her headstone, one that I had never visited, one that plainly stated her birth and death date underneath "Emily Sandra Kensith" and was right beside "David Evans" which I found strange for some reason. She had never loved my father, and I had never even known he had a headstone. It was unnerving to think about how I could have so easily been named Danielle Lily Evans and were it not for my mother's abhorrence of Lily, I would have been. Hell, I hadn't even known that my father's last name wasn't Kensith until I was told that.

Severus was looking at me strangely and I blinked a few times, expecting tears but none came.

But, as troubling and horrible as it was, a few seconds later I was over it. The sadness disappeared as quickly as it had come, and it had been very mild indeed. She hadn't exactly been the greatest mother (although she wasn't the worst, either, I suppose) and she had welcomed it. Had been proud to die by my hands, actually, if I remember correctly. And I was pretty cure I did remember correctly--after all, it wasn't like I had repressed the memory and it wasn't exactly easy to forget killing my own mother.

"Are you all right?" Severus asked carefully, reaching forward and holding my hand.

"I'm fine . . . oddly enough."

"When do you start school?" Gabriel asked without any preamble.

I looked at him and furrowed my eyebrows. "Um, the second, but I have to leave the first. Why?"

"'Cause that's when I start! We're like twins now, huh?"

I raised my eyebrow. "Right."

Severus sighed and let go of my hand. We were all sitting on the table, which had some dirty plates on it since we had just had cake. "Speaking of school, Gabriel," Severus began a bit coolly, "I will be expecting an effort from you this year. I won't be hearing any more of you leaving during recess and not returning, do you understand?"

"What? You know about that?" Gabriel asked.

"Your teachers are well-adept at writing notes."

"But I'm not even going to go to a muggle school forever 'cause I'm a half-blood so there's no reason, duh," he said, folding his arms and glaring at Severus.

"I attended a muggle primary school, and so shall you. I don't expect perfect grades, however I do expect your best and I highly doubt your best earns grades pitifully low."

"Maybe I'm just stupid with muggle stuff. Maybe I do earn grades that are 'pitifully low,'" he mocked, his voice deepening, sounding similar to Severus.

Severus raised an eyebrow at him and his lips thinned. Apaprently he wasn't' amused by Gabriel mocking him. "I suppose if you turned in yoru homework I would be able to assess whether or not you actually that thick, but alas, you do not, so I will have to assume you have an IQ above seventy-five."

"Well maybe I don't! Maybe maths sucks! Maybe I can't read very good!" Gabriel suddenly shouted.

All right, so maybe Severus could be rude, but Gabriel had been avoiding his work at school and it was a lecture Gabriel did sort of deserve. But I hadn't expected him to suddenly shout like that.

Severus seemed a bit shocked as well. "Gabriel, your teachers informed us that you weren't even trying. You're not stupid," he pointed out, sounding a bit confused.

"You don't even know what it's like! You get to shoot spells at people and-and make stuff float and turn into dogs and stuff and have cool little silver animals and I can only do magic when I hate people! And you don't even know me at all! I didn't even go to this stupid school until I moved here and you didn't know what I was like at my old school you don't know my grades then do you?" he shouted, jumping off of his chair and pointing a finger at Severus.

Severus and I looked at each other.

"You don't even know 'cause you're actually smart and stuff! Maybe if you had to do maths and got laughed at 'cause you did the problem wrong you wouldn't want to go to school either!" he screamed and the house shook a little, but not very much.

"Gabriel, if you were having problems, you should have come to me," Severus stated confidently.

"Yeah, I would've helped, too," I said, feeling a little bad. I honestly hadn't thought Gabriel would have problems in school. He had proved to me several times he was intelligent--I had seen him manipulate Draco Malfoy for God's sake and he seemed to understand people very well. He understood things far beyond his years. But I suppose that really didn't have anything to do with books and texts.

"Oh, right, yeah, 'cause I'd want you to help me; you're as thick as I am!"

"Now that was uncalled for," I said, glaring at him.

He walked over to my chair and narrowed his eyes, his blue irises darkening and plates rattling on the table. "Come on, Dani, we all know the only reason you're passing is 'cause you're a teacher-snogging slag."

I smacked him.

As soon as the smack filled the air my hands flew back and covered my mouth. He was staring at me, his eyes wide with shock. His cheeks had a white mark on it the shape of my palm that was quickly fading. His eyes started watering, but the plates stopped rattling on the table.

Oh my God.

I stood up out of the chair and walked past him, hurrying down the hallway. I shut the bedroom door behind me and lied down on the bed.

My hand was stinging, but not nearly as much as my eyes were. I kept replaying the moment over in my head. Maybe after all the killing and torturing I'd done, I had become a bad person. All right, so perhaps what Gabriel had said was cruel, but . . . But I had never smacked him before, or spanked him, or really . . . I'd never even raised my voice at him, either.

I had never had a problem with the idea of disciplining children. I'd never thought ill of my mother for spanking me when I did something bad. I'd been smacked a few times, too. I'd been screamed at, grounded, and once, my mother even threw a shoe at me and called me a bitch. I can't even remember what for, but I remember I had deserved it. I think I might have called her the C word.

I had assumed that one day, when I had children, that they wouldn't be perfect, and I might have to discipline them. But I hadn't expected it to feel so horrible. I hadn't expected to feel nauseous right after, or a burning sense of shame. My face was burning and my eyes were tearing up, water streaming down my face.

I heard Severus yelling something in the back of my mind and Gabriel shouting back. I easily could have heard them, but I was too lost in my own thoughts to focus on their words.

The door opened and I looked up to see Severus walking in, closing the door behind him. I said nothing and looked away from him, feeling guilty just looking at him. He was probably going to lecture me.

I was torn between feeling horrible about what I had done and thinking that I hadn't' really done anything bad. He had said something uncalled, something that wasn't true at all. I was going to have to punish him some day and it was ridiculous to freak out every single time. But what if it was wrong? What if I should have allowed it?

I was confused and angry and sad and ashamed al lat the same time. I wanted to puke but I didn't have to. I wanted to cry but all I did was sniffle and have slight tears run down my face. I wanted to run over to Gabriel and hug him and apologize and tell him he didn't do anything wrong, but at the same time I wanted to give him a lecture. I felt like the worst person on the planet--the worst person to have ever been born. But at the same time, I felt like I hadn't done anything wrong and that the little brat had deserved it.

I felt the mattress shift with the added weight of Severus sitting behind me. "What he said was uncalled for," he told me quietly.

I realized I was still covering my mouth with my hands, and I removed it to speak. "But was smacking him necessary?"

"Danielle." I turned on my back to look up at him. He was staring down at me seriously, his lanky black hair falling in front of his eyes. "He's fine. You didn't even leave a mark."

"But I _could_ have."

"Danielle, listen to me. Children are not angels. They need discipline. Are you opposed to that?"

"Well, no--"

"Then stop it."

I stared him. "Excuse me?"

"Whether you like to think of it or not, Danielle, we are his guardians and he is, by law, our child. We are not here to be his friends. We are here to raise him. My father, who is a disgusting, vile bastard not fitting to walk the earth, _was_ abusive. _You_ are not."

"But--"

"Do you think that I have given you an unfair advantage over the other Slytherins in your class because I am your boyfriend? Because I can assure that I have not. I treat you as I would any other student whilst in class and grading your assignments. Gabriel was lashing out. He said something uncalled for and untrue."

I nodded, although I didn't really feel much better.

"Today is your birthday, and you have not killed any family members, and so I suggest you stop wallowing and get of the room and enjoy yourself." With that, he stood up off of the bed and left the room, shutting the door behind him with a click.

I stared at the ceiling, stunned. I had been expecting comfort; not that. Then again, dating Severus, I should have realized he was going to tell it to my face how he saw it. It made sense, I guess. His father had been abusive towards him and his mother, and to see me freak out over something that small probably annoyed him, like when people sobbed hysterically over something small how it annoyed others who had legitimate pain. Well, and Severus really had been more irritable than usual lately, ever since Prfoessor Dumbledore had been injured.

Still, it didn't make me feel any better.

I wiped my tears away from my cheeks and stood up off of the bed shakily.

I left the room and went down the hallway. I could hear somebody putting dishes in the sink and I walked into the kitchen to see Gabriel, with Severus folding his arms. "Apologize," he ordered.

"Sorry," I muttered, looking downwards and shuffling a bit.

"Not you," Severus spat.

I glanced at him, then looked at Gabriel, who was walking towards me. He put my Ariel doll into my hands and looked at the ground. "I'm saying for calling you a slag."

I nodded, focusing on my doll instead of him. I went to apologize for smacking him, but then I realized that that would probably send a mixed signal. I wondered if my mum had felt this horrible every time she punished me, and I suddenly felt even guiltier for all of the troublesome things I'd put her through and all of the times I really had been out of line.

Suddenly I felt him hugging me tightly around my waist. "I'm sorry, it's just . . . It's just I was afraid if you guys knew I was stupid then you wouldn't want me anymore," he sobbed into my stomach.

I wrapped my arms around him and patted his back. "God, we would never do that, not just 'cause you were stupid." I winced. "Not that you are, I'm sure you're just having a hard time, is all. I mean, maths really does suck. And--and reading is difficult, too, I guess, I mean it's been so long since I learned how I forgot how hard it used to be . . ."

I patted his back and he pulled away form him, wiping his eyes. Well, this fight had certainly been quick. I'd had fights that had lasted hours before--even weeks. It sort of made the whole thing seem silly. It had gone by in a flash, had gone by so fast I was still trying to collect my thoughts about it.

"I love you," he said, his bottom lip quivering.

I smiled at him, feeling pride swell within me. "I love you too. And I would never send you away."

He smiled and I looked back at Severus, knowing I was grinning like an idiot. Severus raised an eyebrow at me, smiled, then looked down at the floor as if trying to hide his amusement.

Gabriel saw me looking at Severus, and he turned around. Then, as if he was afraid Severus felt left out, he said quickly; "Don't worry, Dad--I love you too!"

"Yes, well, I--"

He stopped talking.

My heart skipped a beat.

Severus looked at me and his black eyes glimmered slightly. His eyes locked on mine. He looked strange. I wish I could tell what it was he was feeling, but he was so hard to read.

Just as his mouth started lifting in a smile, we heard a few insistent knocks on the door. Nobody ever visited Spinner's End--_ever--_except Death Eaters. Severus' eyes focused on Gabriel, and I immediately knew what I had to do.

I grabbed his wrist and led him to his room. Gabriel opened his mouth to protest, but I held him against my chest, one arm wrapped around his abdomen and holding his arm still, and my free hand clamped over his mouth. "Shh," I ordered.

I felt his mouth clamp shut against my palm and I opened his bedroom door, closing it just as quietly.

I went into his closet and we both sat in it, shutting the door. I reached into my robes and pulled out my wand. "Lumos," I whispered, and the light reverberated off of the walls.

I could hear voices, but I couldn't hear the words. I knew it was Bellatrix and Narcissa, but I didn't have a single idea as to why they'd be here. Gabriel must've known it was Bellatrix as well, because all of the things in his closet started shaking, and I could hear his breath quickening.

I pulled his back against my chest, holding him against me. His tiny hands went to my arms and held tightly, his nails digging into my skin.

How could things change so quickly? It started as a birthday celebration, then it went into an argument, and now this? Why? Why couldn't anything in my stupid life ever be constant? I blamed the Dark Lord. It felt good to blame someone, and especially him. It didn't make any sense why it would be his fault that Gabriel had said what he had, or that things moved from one emotion to the next so damn quickly it made my head spin, but I didn't care.

It was his fault I was even born. He was the one who wanted to be connected to the Potters. They denied him three times. He must have wanted them badly if he'd given them the chance to deny him more than once. He was the one who told my mum to marry Lily's uncle. He was the one who made her kill my dad. It was his fault my mum was dead--after all, she was so obsessed with impressing him she'd gone happily, hadn't she? I was a Death Eater because of her. Even if I wasn't really a Death Eater and I had never been one, by all appearances that's what I was. I had been branded by him.

And because of him, Bellatrix was here, and I was hiding in a closet with a seven-year-old boy while his closet rumbled and he cried. Because I could feel hot tears dripping off of his face and landing on my hand. I could feel it running along my skin. If I thought my day was bad, poor Gabriel's must be worse. Not only had he been smacked, but the girl who had tortured him for hours on end was in the same house as he was, talking to Severus about something.

If today was my special birthday, then I really wasn't looking forward to any of my others.

* * *

I really wanted to sit with Draco. Really, I did. Draco was my best friend. And I couldn't even blame it on Pansy this time. Pansy was a whiny bitch, yeah, but she tolerated me because she knew Draco liked me. She would be civil when eh was around, and we could have small conversations without getting into arguments. Sure, we both said some cruel, unkind things to one another, small, biting comments, snide ones, but that was it.

It was Astoria. Astoria bloody Greengrass.

Obviously I couldn't show up to Hogwarts with Severus. Dumbledore was currently the only person on the staff who knew about our relationship, and as far as anyone else was concerned, I occasionally babysat his "half-brother." I could have Apparated into Hogsmeade and walked up, but then I'd actually have to "know" the security codes in order to get into the school.

After the Dark Lord's presence had been made known, the Ministry had been sending out pamphlets about security. Pamphlets that were supposed to help. Which I guess was nice that they would try, but really, I wasn't stupid or naïve--it was pretty much doing nothing. However, Hogwarts had decided to up the security. A lot. There were Aurors always on the premises, and Order members as well. And nobody could get in or out, not without knowing how to get past hundreds of wards. All right, so I was an Order member, but it wasn't exactly something we wanted the world to know. So even if I did know how to bypass all the wards (which I did) I "technically" didn't. And using that to my advantage might be a little suspicious, and so I had to sit here, like a lump, on the Hogwarts Express.

And I couldn't even sit with Draco.

Because of Astoria.

Gabriel had started school today, but instead of going home to Spinner's End every day and staying there, with us to watch him, Severus said he had to use the Floo and go to Severus' quarters. Severus had been acting strange for awhile, and he said that, due to something Dumbledore asked him, he wasn't allowed to leave the school. He had to stay on Hogwarts grounds at all times. It made sense, of course, with the Dark Lord's public appearance, it wasn't safe to have teachers leaving daily.

I hadn't had anything to do, because Severus had to leave early in the morning to get ready, and so I'd shown up at King's Cross earlier than necessary. Astoria had been there, and just to keep up appearances, I'd started talking with her. Daphne was there, standing between her parents, and seeing as we were supposed to be friends, I had to act like stepping beside her and having a conversation with her was perfectly natural, although we'd probably talked maybe four times in the history of our lives.

When Draco had shown up, naturally with his arm draped around Pansy and her cuddling into his chest, and he came over to talk with us. Draco was a bit popular suddenly--more-so than he had been. Which, really, wasn't necessary since he was the Slytherin poster boy. Blaise, who had only ever hung around Draco simply because it was expected of them to be friendly, was acting like he was his best friend now, laughing politely at anything remotely funny. He was even being nice to Pansy, which was creepy seeing as he never had a good word to say about her. Blaise was the friend that said snide comments towards Draco, so snide that Draco had to pretend he didn't understand and say something just as snide back. Insults hidden with casual and friendly tones. Now, Blaise wasn't being polite.

I guess maybe I was partly to blame. I wouldn't consider myself shy, but I didn't really like being around a crowd of people, all of them talking. I was all right one-on-one, or when the group was small, but when we were all supposed to be talking and getting along . . . It never worked out. So maybe I had been getting a little snippy. Maybe I'd been a little irritating. And maybe Astoria thought she was doing me a favour.

But all it did was annoy me.

Draco and her just cannot be around each other longer than five minutes. It's impossible.

Somehow, they'd gotten into an argument. Don't ask me how, because it was beyond me. Things were going just fine, I was a little bored and antsy to get on with my day, but everything was _fine._ Next second, they were bickering like an old married couple. Or at least, that was the phrase people always used. I had never seen any married couple, with the exception of Lucius and Narcissa and they didn't really bicker all that often.

Of course, after a few insults were tossed around, Pansy had to come to her boyfriend's rescue. Draco didn't need any help with cutting people down and making them feel like dirt on the bottom of his shoe, but he liked the attention--he liked knowing she would, and so he smirked an let her start an argument with Astoria. Which, of course, meant I had to stick up for Astoria (since we were supposed to be friends) and the next thing I knew, we were all arguing, and because I wasn't in the mood to deal with Pansy and because Astoria didn't have any friends (gee, I wonder why) I was stuck sitting with Astoria in a compartment, just the two of us.

"You don't seem very happy," Astoria pointed out quietly.

I scoffed. "Gee, ya think?"

"Don't tell me you wanted to sit with Draco. I'll never understand _what_ you see in him."

"He's my best friend. That's what I see in him."

"You know, for a long time I thought you two were . . . You know, having an affair or something. That you had a crush on him."

There was a sharp pain in my chest. She hadn't been the only one. It hurt that Severus had thought there was more to our friendship, and it hurt even more to know that he'd been right. I could have loved Draco. Once. But . . . Well, that was over now. Draco had loved me, but . . . Well, thank God that drama was over. We were just friends now, and it was stupid of me to think that we had never been anything more than that.

"Yeah, well . . . there was a time things were complicated, but I refused to see it." Why did I tell her that? "But, I mean, we never really had an affair. We got drunk and stuff happened, but nothing . . . I mean, it wasn't' anything. Just . . . you know, touching. But we were, like, good and sloshed."

"Oh. Was he any good?"

I winced. Ew. "Um . . . Well, at the time he was. I was drunk. He knew what he was doing, and I'd never been . . . touched before."

"Oh. Look, I'm sorry. I know you wanted to sit with him. He just . . . God, you don't know what it's like! Just being near him makes me wanna . . . I don't know, tear his head off. He just gets under my skin, you know?"

I chuckled as the train started up, the floor rumbling beneath my feet. "It's what he likes to do, Astoria. He likes getting under people's skin. He always knows what to say. He likes to pick on you 'cause you rise to the occasion--and no offence, Astoria, but you can't tell me you don't like it, too. Goading people. You've started it more than enough times."

"Yeah, well . . . maybe." She shifted in her seat, then her eyes met mine. "How do you do it? Be friends with him, I mean."

"Um . . . I guess I just understand that's how he is. I mean, whether he hates you or likes you, he's going to give you crap. It's just . . . The moments when he's not around others, I guess. When he's . . . himself. I don't know. It's a bit like a game, really. I grew up with him. He's practically my brother. So I guess it's easier if you think about it as bickering . . . um, I don't know."

Astoria looked me over, and I noticed a small frown on her face. "I kinda get that. You know, saying mean things to someone you like, but in a nice way. It's invective irony." She shifted in her seat. "It makes sense that you guys are friends though. You're both kinda spoiled and, you know, full of yourself."

That stung. "What? I'm not spoiled! And I'm definitely not full of myself!"

She laughed. "Oh, come on, Danielle. You used to act like you were God's gift. I'd heard about all those fits you used to throw in class. You were such an attention seeker. And come on, everyone knows that you two have been friends since you were in nappies, but you thought you were above hanging out with a Malfoy. Draco had to manipulate you into admitting you knew each other at school."

"I _was not_ and attention seeker!" I snapped.

"Admit it, Danielle. You act like your shit doesn't stink sometimes. I used to hate you, you know. You acted like you were bloody royalty. Whatever Snape's done to smack some sense into you, you better thank him for me."

I scoffed and folded my arms across my chest, looking out of the window and at the blurring colours that zoomed past. If I had been Draco, I would have known just what to say to bug her. I would have been able to snap back with something witty about why _she_ doesn't have friends.

But instead, I just folded my arms and stared out the window.

God, I wish I was sitting with Draco.

* * *

A/N--And it came to pass that Ashes Falling updated her fanfic. Yes, I know I've been gone for awhile. And no, I don't really have any excuses except for Real Life. I want you all to know that I am not abandoning ANY of my stories. Sometimes it just takes me awhile to get into the swing of things.

A few important things have happened.

23 July--my twentieth birthday (DanRad and Charisma Carpenter share my birthday. Tight.)

17 August--Danielle's birthday, but more importantly, my best friend's birthday. The two of them, sharing a birthday--is it coincidence? No. I wouldn't forget Dani's birthday if she shared it with someone I knew. Are they similar in personality? Meh, sometimes. I like my best friend more than I like Dani. To be honest, I originally based Dani on this obnoxious bitch in my French class, and as I'm sure you've all notice,d she has matured since then. Dani, not the bitch.

18/19 September--one of those dates belong to Hermione. Happy birthday! The 18th was one of my friend's birthday as well.

I've started a Buffy fic I'm quite proud of, and as I'm sure some of you are aware, I have other HP fics I also work on. If any of you read my other stories, please note that I am starting on those again. Sorry for the long wait.

Don't be shy! Please review.


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